Rage

Eyes wide
I storm into your night
Paralized you
You can see fire through me

Come closer
I burn in the prismatic
Pages of your mind

Each bend
A fading impression of me
I can’t un-crease

Come closer
You can see the parts of me
I cut off for you. . .

I cringe like a crippled
Toddler
As my pieces burn. . .
Yet you count the
Ways in which you accept me.

Me. The broken child.
The wounded.
The torn.
The different.
The Unknowing
The babe of retribution

She who does not know.

I visit places
I cannot go to
Climbing hideous mountains
You have not seen

My eyes burn
From the altitude
As I rise up from dead
In your dreams

How far I have gone
I can no longer
See
But I know you exist
In all your acceptance of me

Grateful as I am.
But say,
Come find me
In this ever sweet
Ecstasy of my love for you.
Were you to enter
Through my chambers
In the sky
You’ll find me.

In Rage.

Between Songs & Silences

Look,
I told myself the poetry was over
That you were gone
And I could whisper your name
In a quiet quiver
No one will ever hear. . .

Look,
It has almost been a whole year
Since the earth flickered
With the glitch that was your leaving

Look,
My heart still heaving
Claws at the mountain that
Will not overflow

I am an endless sum of all the things I will be, no more.

Your essence tosses and turns
As I Try to make you move
Further than my mind can recall

I am losing this tug of war with time
I miss being able to call you mine

Look,
The tear rolls into a drop that will not leave
My chest forever
In the precipice of a heave
Falling, hurling into a soundless wail
Look,
This mind, so frail
It won’t let me cry. . .

This monumental transformation of my life
Smeared in this Bastard pain
Look,
All is empty from within.

And you disappeared, into the sky.

 

 

Closet Monsters

Image Courtesy: Ninja 1987 http://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/ninja1987/corporate-slaves

Black Whole-d soft hearts
bleeding stunted pride
Closed cold congregations
Bloated minds

Dodging bullets
Tossing knives of Accusations

Forgiving themselves
With each winning strike

Wasted Time.

Blending In

Savage
Barbaric

Lustful
Un-classed
Wild

Third World
Dying World
Free World

Histories
Collision
Aftermaths

Wrong doings
Un-doing
Each temporary right

Pig heart
Man-blood
Differences
Fight to be unique

Confounded.

Ordinary battles.
You could be there
We could here

This. Could be anywhere.
I can’t tell apart one world from the other

What happened to us?

So Uncommon

Image Courtesy http://toddconwayarts.com/Wine-and-Beverage-Art

The snare rains open
Like thousand shimmering heads of snakes
Turned on, ready for dance

Inebriated, not the painful kind
Not the kind that
Reminds me of everybody
Being everybody
And skirting the edges of their world, I

Just the snares.
The conversations
The Synth-pop, up-tempo
Down-Cursory
Everyday
Average
Thoughtless
Clapping
Exchanges.

Just talk, you know?

In between horny girls
Up-ed into enthusiasm
And raindrop patters
Of every-day talks over clanking forks
And clinking drinks.

You.

A rarity.
Bouncing into greatness between us.

We must be doing something right.