Max, or Not

passing by
the ghosts of yore

was emptiness
permitting

patrons
of a spent desire

did linger in their midst

the phrases
spoken long before

apprised me of such plight

through the semblance
they would know
no more

upon a stolen night

i held them
by my burdened breath

to stave off death’s advance

if only for the chance
to be a voice
that once was heard

the truth of life
each rung
unsung

a presence
to remain

no person can outrun
the perils
spun on paths we paved

what followed me
i cannot say

yet save
for what was seen

the moment
i could not awake

they passed me by
in dream

a dormant dimension
once held me
in truth

through eyes
of its shadow unfolding

where somber songs sung
by a wandering siren

foretold tales
of reason
abandoned

when time sifted
faster than heaven’s farewell

now, at last
as we are

this, that no one can know
before starlight’s collapse

into rapture
wrapped tightly

by nature’s eclipse

were i not
but a semblance

to glimpse worlds
we lost

though wordless

I would meet you there

should I perish
here today

for to cherish
but the morrow

as the arrow
of our time

has worked its way

yond this splayed flesh

boring deep
within the chasm

spurn the chaos
of my heart

once a sanctum
of ideals

ere the truth
congealed its err

and its story
sadly stolen

by the whispers
of the wind

this season of sorrow
had shifted

for I saw no remorse
in the rainbow’s reflection

her claws left their burden
and bound me
to her law

how she lashed out

and lost
her lone leashed companion

the tall tales of hardship
have taken their toll

though they bind my broken chest
like the first time
I heard death

when its heaven came
tumbling downward

foreshadowed

and a desiccance dreary
took reign of my heart

what’s the deal with nosy neighbors
peeping-toms, and psychopaths?

what crime have we committed
to beget their neverending wrath?

well, of course, aside from looking über-sexy in a thong
but that’s on them for spying
for you see, we have done nothing wrong

is their daily routine so bereft of things that they might do
to occupy their idle hands and bid the devil’s plans adieu?

or is it far more likely
that the truth is of a darker nature

huddled in their chambers scrawling litanies neath dwindling tapers

summoning presumptions amid scenes of sordid ceremony

passively aggressing their egregious errs of sanctimony

leaving one to shudder when imagining their true intentions

manifested by the impetus
of grave misapprehension

always is their ire aware
conspiring to construct illusions

culled from inane ennui
and hyperbole of such minutiae

on the hour
up to the minute
their rote resolve will not diminish

diligent recalcitrants oblivious to their own menace

growing more contemptuous with every peal of pompous laughter

pushing past the precipice
that separates the here and after

verily reducing us
to fodder for their vapid prattle
casting grand aspersions with an ardor apt for epic battle

critiquing our shower singing,
bathing naked ‘low the sun,
practicing new pole maneuvers,
pumping iron with glistened buns

it’s okay, we understand
they just can’t help but be insipid

static in their lack of life
resenting those of us who live it

how pathetic can one be
to spend their time defaming others

funny, that despite their claims
it’s their minds skulking in the gutter

let’s be honest
what is “hate”
but fervid love thought unrequited

if you love us, let it show
there ain’t no point in tryna hide it!

i wanted to
live

and then life happened

leaving me

longing

for death
by distraction

a voice
refusing reciprocity
renders itself invalid

shored upon the surface sheen
its depth is neither

seen nor heard

to sow a scene
within fields fallow

nothing
but the self is known

poignant is this pill
to swallow

heretofore as I have shown