Singing Sand

i waft along
this cloud of dust
in empty clement skies

a drusy sun sets
streaks of ruby
citron fire
reach on across the land
like lonely nights
in soft sahara

the mountains gain a shade of haze
as echoing winds whisper
with the stoic cries of crickets
in a muted droning lull

twilight bends
beyond eye’s edge

the deepest blue lapis sets in

contentedness
we once possessed

lies trapped behind the silent veil
no map had e’er descried

through layers of lamenting torment

seething of her phantom cilice

ceaseless

in a listless cause
of indolent demise

[image credit: Bud Duncan]

Fractured Hearts

fragile hearts
composed of fractured shards
of selenite
soon fall
from the silence
strewn long
throughout the night

some will dissipate
upon the kiss
of eclipsed atmosphere

while others infiltrate
the earth’s defenses
waiting to be found

is this power
within my pen
enough to stay
disappointment?

can these sunken eyes
sustain the curtain’s calling
dirt and all?

through these weary eyes
of stinging
i fail
to see the answer

no longer does water well
in the aqueduct
of quiescence

and gone
is any semblance
of the joy
that once we knew

having joined
the desperate masses
as envoys of muted morass

precious hours spent
relentlessly toiling
for elusive spoils

spanning the breadth
of a breathlessness
unbridled

’til our heads withered
wayward
down the trail
of idle absurdity

as frail
as the feathered waif
unhidden
on a leaf-barren poplar

sonically assailed
by a hail-tinged doppler shriek
with a tail that spanned the ages

Mistaken

when I tasted
the ground
my world
was no longer
for what I had found
was stronger than death
when my face
grazed the earth
my sight
torn right from me
I gazed at my worth
were life not a freedom
the crashing of bones
knees, elbows, and skull
would fall into silence
upon urgent moment
the brashness of one
fleeing from the lull
appallingly useless
for all, consequent

End of Deus

stifled

by the sound
of words
preserved

perched
in a madman’s
hallucination

of halcyon days

ere hope
had wintered
this vale

velleity
vanquished
its ceremony

in sermon
rescinded
from restive
err

 

 

[photo: Art Redwing & Alberta Kelm]

Painted Rainbows

I come
from a long
line

of cocaine

chains

and painted
rainbows

tainted aims
and hijacked
reins

that taunt me
with their wonton ways

led by tinted
saints

whose patronizing
love
would one day fade

in truth betrayed
through time’s display

were
all things ventured
for naught gained

save this dull pain
that e’er remains

to haunt me
in her silent
shades

Rogue Reminisce

shadows crept
the length
of disquietude

distilled
in the wonder
of our willful dearth

lumbering
through morass

when last we plundered
this scorching earth

she blindly scrawled
three bold runes

that burn yet
still
within
this piteous pith
of tormented ruin

immune
to time’s retelling

they rave and revel
in a rogue reminisce

This Latent Lament

your words
are the sinister fire
that burns
truth
through holes
in my head

with thoughts
that forever conspire
to spurn the unheard
consequence

i look to your kingdom
of ire
to learn
of my lost relevance

with hope
i may someday
retire
from churning
this latent lament

the days
of conflict
and desire
were earned
but would never
be spent

this love
once so fervent
and dire
returns now
to fine
sediment

[Photo: Mary Pickford]

A Brief Importance

in days of dust
and clouded haze
sing silent whispers
amid resignation

where muted martyrs
beckon forth
a call to arms
at arm’s length, lost

dull, broken banter
obscuring cries
as empty bottles
fill out our fears

skies loom strewed
with vacant signs
to feed the void
of eyes so vain

the passive ardor
adorning glass
peers through our window
in blighted light

a hand lay cold
on shoulder spurned
fixed in the moment
without flinching

when dusk came sweeping
the people waned
a brief importance
then saw me home

Avoidant

avoidant
that’s what they
call it

the truth
is that i’m terrified

scared
out of my wits

afraid
of the horrors
that await

in the unknown
abyss
of uncertainty

where all of my dreams
go to die

the term
“avoidant”

to me
implies
willfulness

the only thing
i so desperately wish
to avoid

is this

Thoughts

my expression
airs profuse
ensnaring me
in silent noose
these ceaseless cries
of reckless poise
pen pointless vies
of restless noise
recycled prose
composed of pain
in spiral throes
bereft of shame
enmeshed in mire
moshing through muck
long since retired
from flying fucks
abundant piles
of errant swill
redundant guile
imperiled still
suffice to say
human am i
the price i pay
cannot deny
this truth unmoored
of my behest
a heart obscured
by art beset
but dare i say
i shall persist
for here allays
the impetus
to quash this voice
would surely gain
naught but the vice
of life’s abstain
so hear these words
but heed them not
for rest assured
they are but thoughts