The more I know, the less I write:
not as much left to question,
to fill the gaps in flighty metaphors
more night, fewer butterfly wings
less to say, words sinking
to the ground:
haphazard patterns, easy to step over
no more stumbling through clouds
at least none to describe
by birds in flight: now settled
Monthly Archives: May 2022
Noise
Drown noise in more noise
sink your toes into music
shove your hands into the night
pull out the electric threads
of fraying nerves
unravel thunder clouds
hold them to your ear
and listen to the static:
cosmic background noise
of thoughts escaping singularity
Back
Open a bottle of tears, swim in old sadness to go back to sleep writing, wandering the shores of seas of the good cries, salt stinging against feet cut on rocks, hands cut on paper squares refusing to take the shape of the universe: fingers finding the bottom of white holes made of triangles and pleats and creases, crescent moons of glitter under pale nails, stars rolling down cheeks and dripping into unmarred voids, trails of fading voices walking the dimming day, down the shore, back across the sands of moons dipping and diving against sunset horizons on worlds untouched by all but thought;
go back to the halls of days falling into pieces, into place, shells crumbling under the weight of pearls, wounded ideas growing into cosmic flowers, connecting all, coral systems crossing your mind into shallow pools of what is left, the remnants of walks along brittle paths, ash in water and salt in your mouth
go back again and again and dip your palms into the ripples you left last year
full circles, all yours
Now also on Medium
Emotional Raids
You sow rage
into your blood
and harvest rage
from the field
of your acidic spine;
You feed rage to the sea,
fill the ocean with anger
until it floods your heart
and you set sail
from the burning dock in your lungs
May
May is green
and white
a fire of fragrances running
along overgrown trails
in explosions of elderflowers
and clouds of cottonwood
sleeping on your bed
Itch
An electric storm building up
between my shoulder blades
the itch of reality
biting down on a writhing tongue
to keep the fire from escaping
through pores not fit to withstand
lightning strikes
inhaling
dragon breath
starfishskies 