Those damn poetic words
are attacking me again
with their hide and seek
insufficient revealings
glimpsed smidgens

I’ll hide some words a bit
save them
the small flecks
maybe come back when
the ruling darkness
of the soul
ends (as it will)

What happens when words
coalesce
into some fragment of sense?

It is true, then
what was hope
is now
despair

They knew
the dark ruler
is darker than we knew.

There are dark dreams of unfamiliarity
cruel, confused subjects
as the rain falls
to a waking welcome
I will drown in it while I can

Words that should have stayed secret
It matters
I hurt what I cherish
We all do

Ugly dreams

of animal torture

flying spiders

with bulging eyes

we feed them death

 

 

Nevertheless
we drown, too
I am running backward
west sun rising
ruined stars

┊　　┊　　┊　　┊
┊　　┊　　┊　　★
┊　　┊　　☆
┊　　★
☆

 

Cherish this backward journey now
let night become light
as the sun rises in the west

I balance these words
Unsuccessfully

A visceral memorial
raw sores of two souls
I knew
A thousand women
A thousand days’
and that was that
So what?

The summer lasted
a day or two
A knock
A night
A flash
What the hell could I know
Except I was no one special
in the startling dark

Something inexplicable
Haunts me
If it’s for the best
I wouldn’t know

A rare, pure moment, was it?
Untainted by terror
I did not understand
The way in which
the days started
with destruction…
and polluted oranges

 

 

A misplaced self
A perplexed soul
An eternal sadness
and that was that

A myth of freckles on the sand
A re-lived youth on beach bestowed

And what of the dual archers?
This is repayment
of untold tales
dark innocence pierced
by brutal arrows
hurled towards themselves
they remained empty
their punctures unfulfilled

Do the archers yet guard the gates, now?
Wander the ages
and don’t look back?

Why would they?

Smothered scenes
music flashing through anonymous faces
a quoted invitation
bring to me now
that hypnotic river of sound

Of one of them,
his friend, spoke
that the better angels of
his unconscious mind arose
because the muse was hanging around
he was grateful
he stood
in the lion’s shadow

Who remembers that?
Celebrate the prophets
because the prophets die young

I walked the carpet
clockwise circles
hearing the poet’s voice
Someone yelled “STOP!”
My steps turned counterclockwise
Towards fire-filled hills
And a long, long road ahead
Not knowing the pain
water would bring
It was too late
The moon bounced on the sea
filled with fire
reflecting gelatinous poison

I tried to keep
a fragment of innocence
It escaped
I tried to keep it
a little too long

Sometimes the only peace
is delusion
and we are conned no longer
by false hope.

Youth flew.
There was forever, after all
rolling along ahead

But, if it was you
Could be me, too?
So,
actions
not choices

It wasn’t,
Fool

Those days were loneliness
Those days were magic
Those days were pain
Those days were joy
Those days were for granted
Lost in some amorphous
neuro pathways

Fuck.
What happened?

Life now and then
throws a recollection
I can’t keep structured
in proper places.

But in the moment
I keep hearing it:
“Kill me now”
Don’t let our stupidity
change us

It reminds me:
Who will I be when I’m not?
When I meet my quiet forever?

There is no gift of forgetfulness
There is a erroneous attempt
to push aside
something
I cannot

Damn it
Just stop
Please
just stop

Kill me
please
Kill me
now

The thread of life
long after Camelot died
(but not the one you know)
An eternity (or so I thought)
of endless sex and drugs
Wandering an eternal sunset
celebrated avenue in
Wasted cosmetic hours

And, too,
enchantment
harmonics
classical euphonies
discordant cacophonies
with unity discovered
who needed vision then?

The archers
wander on
toward the guarded gates
of morning
the fortunate ones
freed
as humanity rushes
heedless
towards its
a sadistic end

Do you see your dark perceptions fulfilled?
We almost won the war

 

 

I, a poet too?
(of sorts, perhaps)

I weed through old images
mourn the excised light
emulating
less a sex symbol than a poet
who simply
hurt

(remembering some
quasi-connection)

A 21st Century
soul captured and captivated
and microchips
fleeting pictures
bodiless
another nod to death

 

I’m sort of
dead myself
for now.
Aren’t you?
Farewell, my friends
Someday, I will drown, too…