Friday, July 27, 2012

two wounds

that love which

keeps fragmenting the soul
until life itself wants to bleed out of life

that love

is not called home.

so in this story

dearest,

what do you hear
when sounds crave for 
your ear?

from memory


first i knew memory

then it was gone
then it was wedded to the moon
that i was not

first we were invisible
but substance hovered
substance covered

i lost my faith in language
and then i saw it easy

turn your head 
towards your toes
look beneath
the cold floor
look beyond
the naked door

look and look
until you see 
there is a bird
inside your heart

look at the star
that greets your wart

look when we ask
how beautiful is the simple life that never makes itself understood to the most complicated creatures who refuse to see the straight in straight

they only terminate

we listen to the voices in our head
we walk upon the dead

we manifest
because we're too late
to be you, be me

we don't stop this talking
eternal speaking, yapping, barking

hopping with our words

i worry
this is what i worry about
worry for
worry if

i wont make it

i kill the bird in me
roots and feathers, clawed paws
i push the star afar

i wait at the edge of beyond 
i sit and wait and split.

stream of subconsciousness in the dark

the tornado hits
this corroded brain

and when we weren't heaven's
we were

and are
whoever will own us

but something in my body

tells me
i am a journey
unmade

i would not
but you were persistent

why did we die
yesterday

when there was blue in the sky
and the one's who should have cherished

we were unfathomable

and you listen to your heart
and it doesn't beat

fuck it doesn't beat

who told you there was truth
in all these wanderings

i remember
from yesterday
the soul lost in its wanderings

wandering outside
wandering inside
the soul is so cold
this soul without a home
this soul that is only but a dying spark
and then we are no longer
happening.

do worlds sound right again?

do voices sound ripe again?

do words echo from a distance
uneven unforgettable

we are over
we are not there for anyone to understand

we are untouchable in each other

where did you come from

why wouldn't you stay
why did we mean enough to each other
that here is not a day

when the heart does not break

it breaks

and it breaks

first i was blinded by the light
then darkness.

what is your story?


replete with shame
with guilt

made of air 
and fuck 
and grime

adding up to
nothing

nothing.

that is my story.

hang, momentum

resolve

resolve

untangle
uncoil

arrive
to the 
pendulum's 
drop 


before it is
swung.



are you feeling free yet?

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

poetry

you so coarse and wordless
and the whole earth bursting in rhyme


look;
your intentions so pointless


everywhere tells the sad story of what you are not


look;
the motherfucker eludes you again.