She cried too late, she surmises, Where the water hits the sky she relates, Relating further as the distance gains, Relationships were never her game. Decisions in haste are still decisions made, Whether the bars bend makes no difference, You still lived in a cage. She is indivisible from a man, She decides in a rage, This divides her, divided in half, her life changes. Her children are the product of mistakes. She cried too late, she surmises. Famine, she decides. Pestilence, plague, flames, Venom from the viper's fang, Which she places upon the lambs that wail. Take me away, she whispers to nobody there. Take me away, she formally dresses, playing, Addressing her former self, she was taken away, Far from the pain that she feels everyday
Water that vanishes with time, Pull my teeth and tongue with pliers, Wrap them in the pages of the bible, Leave the rest for God to divine. Cries from a driver: silence. It's final, an eyelid covers the iris, Water never vanishes with time, Darkness, it replaces the fire.
I can't fly, I buy a plane, afraid, Is it I, or the world that changed? Doing, but why? Moon in the sky, The music has died away: Civilized, civil eyes describe, My cymbals, rides and chains. Time changes, I stay behind, afraid, I can't fly, I can't buy a plane, Or move to a space in my mind, Tiny place, stimuli, to hide my pain. Like shrines to a saint, myself, I can overprice, play faces like chess, Trite, then replace with tech. In my camp by the lake, Water arrests the trees. Wolf, that tames itself, Realizes little of anyone else, Sees no bigger dreams, Eats the best, but what for me?
A wake-up call, A veil must fall, He always spoke in ways of god, Unfortunately he spoke that way a lot. He spoke simply, of knaves and farms, Like he spoke in the name of god. Like the oil on the water, It leaves a glistening wake behind it; Eyes are like the rays of dawn. Flames stream from a mouth; Sparks of fire shoot out the nostrils, Dragon tall, shakes the castle walls. So can you blame them, When they say fuck off? Nothing on earth is its equal, A creature without fear, And it comes for us, The reign of law.
An open mouth gasps, Hot sauce, parmesan, All I see is stars. No conscious thought, Face agaze in awe, A chicken with no wing, Would it rise or fall? As I concentrate, Stare at a spot on the wall, Eyes; waterfalls, Call off the milk, Call off the salt, My tongue stings, Craters, my teeth sting, An open mouth gasps for these things, A king sits routinely, Being above singing and fearing.
Paper, mind racing; April, outside rain; Days, time, pain. Trial, minor inheritance, Inside raging, vain, Water droplet pacing. Lies, decadence, Left in the sunset. Am I adept? Think, look back. Flies in everything, Trying anything, I, tried everything. Trial, cherry picking, Many years, Their meaning? A small committee, Press, briefings: Ideas discrete, Their leanings. Where is the time for healing?
To write irate, Like Ivy failed, The time it takes, Is flies to drakes. Reveal beneath the cape, water, Fantastic I can see the shape. Father should I peel the grapes? I only question the time it takes.
Truffle, my gems are gone. All bets are off. Swan, water, ruffles, Trouble underwater, The fish will balk: Death march talk becomes bubbles, They beg off, shot in the stomach, Test nothing, swim to the bottom. Lord, I spoke to God. Soft, I sodded off. Man, laughter, shuffle, Trouble in the park, People just forgotten: Talking until nonsense, Their tussles long, Of consequence and knowledge, Then replaced by logs.
It is far better to dry the ocean and be at the bottom of the sandy sea than it is to rage against the tides hopeless, yet aimless, waiting for solace you fight, you splash, you scream only to be treading water for hours while you could have gotten a towel and then started drying the waters taking a while. But as the level lowers, and as you realize you're drowning either way, it was far better to aim for the sand that it would have been to rage against the tide
the santan dew crawls out of the stalk if you break it apart from the bush suddenly it burns brighter than dust small grand doors tiptoed to kiss their frames held by hinges, but try to reach north alas, their fates are back and forth there’s a somnolence to homes that are not yours holed with metaphors you never explored to tell your throat is for similes or possibly something else i wonder if wells hear wishes or if they are mere echoes of aired fulfillment perhaps that’s why the well water only gets to see the sky even if i bury my fingers beneath the soil, i am no root. even when i draw lines on the sand, i make no shore.
Down the river, ebb and flow Movement medicine, the way she goes Directional breath, inbound out Cease to dam, no time for drought She is the tide, low to high On her ship, sailing by Wicked waters, serene seas Sunrise, sunset, peace and ease Floating to sea, where im meant to be Accompanied by my higher self and me Turbulent tides, channel open wide Facing facts, letting go of lies Dolphins diving, staring in my eyes Sonic translation, opening my mind A tug on my leg, 8 arms wrap around Octopus arrives, leading me astound Magical moments, divine intervention Messages come through intuitive intention Coast to coast, sailing away In the depths of myself, I find the way
Understand and teach, Understated leaning; Two doves meet, screw, Too political to flee So peruse their feelings. Undo seams, view my being; What ensues is anarchy, Stop to stare at the window, What do you see? A world, without me; Call the children, in at once! It's not what in his heart, It's the way he talks! A speaking hall of mirrors, All it's brilliance lost. Chicken mostly water, Only poultry in part. Justice and peace, Butter and cheese, Elephant man feels, just like bad dreams.
quite literally they cannot spill out of my mouth into the toilet bowl fast enough green, neophyte, insensate swirling around in the clear, shallow water, they almost look like they are swimming ancient, ferric, turpentine its midnight on sunday afternoon and the morning never felt so far away verily, salt, halcyon pulling the lever, they swirl away, the letters sloshing together into a murky soup gestalt, vermilion, fear they turn into equations with no solutions when i bring my hand away from my mouth, wiping ouroboros, nineteen, baseless i know better than to brush my teeth golden, gale, corridor i know better than to go back to bed right after demilune, murmur, mirror linoleum, throat, nightgown listless, lucid, dreamer
When you touch the water, Do you feel it's wetness? When you make art, do you ask, How far is the sunset? Like a squirrel along the fence, I hope I never dash to the end.
Modern artist, face the mirror, Not closet drama, faceless killers. Lost in waves of wonder, Are we not just slave for silver? Target markets, water watchers, Ask Martin Arnold: Do cranial ridges game the system, Worship quantum like heart of darkness? Bonnet drama, Common knowledge, Copper dollars, Collared scholar, Blame the victim.
devouring the skin inside my lip. of course, everything in the human body is connected. of course. staining the porcelain with blood and iron, iron and blood and water, the permutations of rust. my voice becomes sticky, sickly sweet - the performance of wellness thickened even further by blood. my crazy, concentrated and caustic, drains through my nose and onto my chin and onto my shirt and onto my hands and down the drain. “i wish the blood inside my mouth were yours”.
I wrote the list upon my hand, because I was wont to forget. Memory was always a weakness, since birth I assume. I had since then learnt to cope. Would it rain? I wasn't sure, but I would be ready if it did. "Ready to go?" I heard a voice. I nodded, we were probably already late. It was dark outside, raining. The blacktop shimmered with the small bit of dwindling light that escaped through the clouds. The day was early but the day already felt long, characteristic of the gloomy weather. I opened the door, however, to sunlight beaming in my front door. "Great! Looks like it cleared up outside!" but all I could hear was the ocean. The noise of waves tossing themselves on the shore was overwhelming, their loudness filling the air. "Are you alright?" I snapped back into reality. I assured myself I was fine, just lost in thought as usual. I tried to make myself more comfortable by focusing on the inviting weather, although I was visibly nervous. I felt like something bad was going to happen. My foot stepped to the concrete, bending the leather of my shoes and causing them to crease. We walk beside one another in a peaceful silence toward the bus stop, eyes trained on the puddles of the sidewalk. My foot lifted for another step and as it comes back down to reach the water, I felt a wind rush past. I looked up, and I found myself all alone. Once again, I felt the rain upon my face.
it's my turn to put away the dishes it's the same knife i use to cut strawberries in the mornings the sucrose covers my hands. do you think blood is the same kind of sticky? will it come off with soap and water and elbow grease? will it even matter?