For every wish that petulantly pouts upon my lips…
There is a blessing that soothes away the questioning
But the heart is ever young and ever ardent in its tantrums
And yet Time patiently guides
And shows in glimpses
The mystery
Of why things happened
The way they did.
Darkness
slides and slips
like glinting slime upon a mottled marble slab
cascading along the eaves
of an inked through canvas
crashing into an infinite
number of pieces
each
crystallizing
into a haze of gauzy silk
luxurious yet softly
and swiftly stifling.
prickly pins and needles
stinging until numb
i drowsily helpless
to resist its
gloopy, gloppy, oozy
pit of tar
muddled mists lazily smoke
rustling whispers surround
brushing by, bristling, listening.
startling neon colours
burst and collide
spark and fade
across the starry-less pitch-black night
pulsating in the distance
dimmer still no nearer
further still no end
a panther prowls
its spots unseen.
I want to ask
Does it ever reach?
Or is it made to only stay
Throughout its mortal vessels
which cease to beat
in fear of missing
what they claim
could sway the heavens itself?
*
Is it this gift what makes the
Waves themselves never cease?
*
That makes our memories resound
what our innateness would otherwise
dismiss?
*
Does it bring us closer to the Divine?
Or does the Divine breathe closer
To the winds?
Sealing within
The hush
of all that can ever be
Perceived…
*
Allowing us to forget to be self
bringing us a mote closer
to the
One
i came upon my mirror one night,
and in its darkness i saw more
than what light ever reflected.
shadows deeply awaited my eyes
to peer more closely
and thus i leaned
into its inkish plane
and just went through…
Written long before “Twilight” mania existed…I do mention eyes…but not as creatively as Ms. Meyer’s did, 567 times. =P
As his papery skin rustles at my touch
I look into his once fiery cold eyes
Now all but closed and pale
Only now I gaze upon his pallidness
Ever before he beseeched me to leave him be
His feverish countenance so vivid so hungry
All I saw only of his fine days fully lazy and sated
My slumber ever unacquainted
His sombreness and secrecy ever unquestioned
Always so cold and deep
And then asudden glowing within
Amused yet distant
Almost afeared to be near me
Yet now here he begs afore me
Dry lips move to whisper
For just one soft light
Rejuvenating
Bite
i reach for the door
and before it breathes open
i know what waits behind
waits for me
the walls whisper
the floors creak
the curtains rush to hush
in splendor
in ruin
in wonder
in dread
i have seen many of your faces
i have watched many of your dwellers
and know i am no freer than they are
when i enter
I await
that heavy handed caress
the earth’s vengeful finesse.
the oblivion i embrace
majestic and all consuming
magnificent when beheld
magnanimous with its tremendous power…
let me have
that thirst to survive
that willful instinctive frenzy
that one last
valiant attempt to breathe…
and wanting to breathe.
the minute
fading
the bit by bit
wearing
tearing
only makes
the rented holes
larger
yet brings
you no way
nearer to its
edge…
it remains
yawning ever wider
but only gnaws and nibbles away…
remaining above all else:
guiltless.
intotheindigo 