“hey you…”

“posturing is pointless
when you simply need a hug

to deny one’s own
humanity
is to deprive
that of others

the terrible fragility of every facet
of our existence
must always be considered

i know i could use a hug
and so could you

the truth of love is universal

why am i still talking?”

shuts up and hugs you

Dispatched

dispatched
to the hungry umbrage
spindly wraiths
spill ruination
arms athwart
absorb nullity
boots and RIFs
soon disavowed

whistling timbres
so precise
held brimstone fists stripped
knuckled white
waried faith
lest bullets showered
dulled the Duster pastorales

plucked like florets
bare and breathless
strafing nightly
saw them felled
prowess at imperil’s onset
sweat poured down
a poor man’s brow
loud as telegraphed
impressions
dispossessed
like wingless flies

birds took to the sky
in errant
bursts of aril
none were spared
crimson horrors
void of rinsing
from the hands
of shellshocked minds

blind are days
since hell became us
land of freedom
man as god
sadist thieves
left grief besotted
rotting leaves
pinned to dead air

Pasting the Past Into the Present

a poem is but
a restive cluster
grasping
onto pages
with our frantic
fears conspicuously
calling out
for rescue

meticulously poring through
decrepit thoughts
of hoarded visions
kiss to tryst
to triste
in a blissful
dissolution
before sediment
comes nigh
where sighs undress
our destitute descries

calculated coalescence
pandering our pride’s
priviest imprints
curling chips of paint
exposing throes
of yesterdays

sacred cruxes
born before
our burgeoning bereavement
from whence all
embarking destined
for a distant hearken
poised to be
impartially presented
in pretentiously penned
appropriations
parsed
to pierce our peers
appetition
to sate this
untold inquisition

Petaled Trails

once
i walked
a lone procession

in the blossoming
wake of a cherry
bloom daydream

lost
in thought
as threnodies
cried peals
of Zeus’wrath

helpless
in a gaze
transfixed

counting down
each drowning
footstep

tread upon
tremulant flesh
yet shone anew

as our minds
fell behind
racing hearts

failing
to bridge
the frigid waters

on that day
when i long held
truth

as the subtle sky
absconded
with your song

Whatever I Have Known

whatever
i have known

in thought
through observation

has trickled
through the
hollow holes

that hearken
solstice winds

in shapes
and sounds
from profound
to mundane

demanding
their address

effortlessly
spent
like pleasantries
appeasing
pastime purpose

presently
with serpent’s tongue

through absent blessings
fed to flames
then cleft in twain

on the overhung edge
of our sanity
dissimulated

Love Most Valid

arid mist
of rhapsodic
waxing

long sought
to dismantle
the essence
only to reveal
its Gestalt

assigning
attenuous tenets
composed of pretense

to valence
resigned

but love validates
existence
through open commune
of fluid mind

with trust
respect and
shared silence

nascent intimacy
airs triumphant

while astute observation
inherently deferent
endures

for these are the matters
of consequence revered

Promised Hours

why is it
that only upon leaving
do you voice
lament

fleeting amid
sentiments
and sudden
things to do

promised hours
perish
in a flash
of wistful
alley light

scarce
your words
remain
as token trials of hope
since lost

hanging in denial
are faded smiles
and fusty
mothballed coats

in the closet
strung like latent
trysts
listless
and long forgotten

I DON’T THINK SO!

 

if we could state with fearless freedom
the truth that every woman knows
the cross that every woman bears
the pain that every woman suffers

it would still not yet suffice

the silence, violence, negligence
disparity, disquietude
the destitute condition
of a desperate society

destined to repeat the past
with exigence until at last
we will have set the final precedent

we will not go gentle into that good night
we will not stand aside
we will abide by what is right
and you will comply

no longer will you have your way
you’ve had your day for all of time

before, we roared, but none would listen
now we shall arise
accept no compromise
condemn the lies
convict the crimes
inflicted upon daughters
wives
sisters
mothers
friends
neighbors
strangers
ancestors
descendants

relentless
has been your assailing
tending to your biggest failing
rendering yourself invalid
by and of your own availing

eventually, you must understand
without women, there is not man

for we live on our mother’s earth
because our mothers gave us birth
there is no other savior, sir
existence is not heaven-sent

presently our plight has shown
what all women have ever known

that thirsty eyes and empty minds
bring idle hands to victimize
the innocent
the defenseless
without the fear
of consequence

the fallout
subsequently following
their lack of self-control
to sate their whim
they spend our souls?

I DON’T THINK SO!

now you must atone

Sacred Trivialities

we ride
this boundless wave

from crest
to crash
in chaos
crushing shrieks
and drowning cries

echoes
in the undertow

through waters
of an unknown quest

sinuating circumstances
tend this surface tension
tenuously

as each action
scatters sentences
in capillary sequences
of curious inconsequence

where quantum rifts
soon shift to cosmic

drifting upon caustic wake

it is in that squallish whisper
when the hands of fate uplift us

sifting through our sins

in graceless cringing
and grimaced chagrin

gravity turns inverse

severing us
from our sanctimonious symbols
and sacred trivialities

we once revered
with fierce resolve
our lives revolved
provincially
with every round

all soon found
to have been
profundity’s antithesis

arriving at the genesis
of cyclical rebound

reborn and disavowed
in distant visions
of the now

Not Even Death

when everything
is gone
nothing matters

the only place
you still exist
is barely even tangible

but you don’t care
no one cares

not even death

and so it persists

The Last Pain

fading in
and out of shadows
faces
of bizarre contortion
glaring
as a stranger’s
features
reach into
this bed of famine

trapped within
these walls
without you

terror-stricken

anxious

reeling

haunted
by fates unforeseen

fleeing
from my own escape
on paper
pouring totured
thoughts

poring over
art
distraught
in attics
dimly lit
amid daunting stacks
bearing chronicles
so unfamiliar

taunting
with disparity
the stalking stares
cast cold as steel

the last pain
I am left to feel
is lost to numbness
pitted in this hole
that was my conscience

Shores of Implore

plastic melts
like sugared air
and time conforms
to nothing

songs persist
through voices shared
with context
ever shifting

if only
you could walk beside me
on these planes
of swallowed hope

placid seas
would then return us
sadly
this will never be

Stranded On the Precipice

death escaped
my hands

and left me

standing at the altar

the emptiness
received me
like a self-
inflicted wound

in a room
adorned with trinkets of trifle

faintly linking
my alter-ego
to this faux land

of vaulted heart
and vapid mind

where visions turn
away
afraid
to learn

of their inbound
inception

this blunderous aberration
has no station

nor foot
to find it steady

a cistern of depleted days
precedes each ghastly step
in protest

stranded
on the precipice
of a sempiternal impasse

surely they jest
upon questioning
assent to my depression

such pain belies
its own expression

and politesse yet stays
my tongue

To LIVE

To LIVE

is to have

the TRUTH
of one’s individual
PERSONAL
experience

perpetually

INVALIDATED

by the WORLD

around you

with special

EMPHASIS

on those
who ARE poised

to KNOW

YOU best

Favored Detachment

maudlin voices
masquerade
through the night

burning
the ends
of an erstwhile
affliction

fumbling
like infants
with fervent fixation

lamenting
days spent
in a garrulous haste

to dust
turns the water
from bottles
of air

as spirits deplete
without fear
of redemption

tears
of sweet agony
gather in basins

fermenting
‘neath faceless
tombs
rapt in depart

As Sure As Flesh Weeps Crimson

i awoke
today.

sodden with the somber dew
felled by gross iniquity.

women, men
both elder and youth.

strangers, friends
both able-bodied and ailing.

human beings.
with goodness
of heart
and keenness
of mind.

their very freedom
infringed upon
in this “land of the free”.

for fear had stricken
fulgurant
and butterflies took to wing.

trepidation
wrested the weary.
their minds
folding inward
’til ingress gave way.

and here it is
we stand.
on the precipice
of definitive salvation.

if we are to evolve,
it is only
through love

that we should breach
the heavens.

as sure as flesh
weeps crimson,
no other fate
shall see us
through.

Cloak of Fear

fear
conforms
like a secondary
skin
of vitreous flesh

enshrouding
huddled masses

in layers
of fragile
impenetrability

like a renegade
chrysalis

invading
with masochistic
avail

inviting
every failure

to impale
verity’s parables

with
pithy
regale

Hollow Home

the distant
droning

of undulate
whirring

persisting

shifting
into hours

the lonesome
shrill
of a room
filled with faces

whose failure
to listen

eclipses quietus

quashed

beneath the anguish
of this bedlam
mind

what darkness
familiar
yet follows

unfurling

the fears
of forgotten
infernos

unduly writhing

beneath twilight
reflections

Revolution

in spite
of mountains
of might

air
bears no impression

for years
we watched

lying rigid
in piqued
anticipation

every time we looked
away
the day had since fallen

even still

do we burn
holes in the ceiling

retraversing every misstep