Preoccupation

to have arrived
is to die

I have since
surrounded myself
with cut-out cardboard
reconfigured with no particular preference

staples and tape

to ward off the hatred

a color completely devoid
of vindictiveness

the windowless model is quite suitable

for I have not the time
to look up
and ahead

I am far too caught-up
in this whole “being dead” thing

oh, what a dreadful façade

[image credit: Jan Toorop]

Symmetry

the paradox of a promise
one cannot hold

known so well

ask not why

anxiously fleeing
leaden clouds
of dusted wake

and coerced ruination

blanketing
the black horizon

heaven, pray forgive me

nothing

but the bleakest silence
can allay these blighted days

tempting the mirrored gate

it reveals

that it is time

[image credit: Pablo Picasso]

When Today Found Me

and it was today

not knowing its meaning
not knowing why

i know that i love you.

that nothing remains

in this nomad’s world

for hands to behold

but the fleeting whispers
through eyes spent

desiccant.

i watch
immured in solitude

when laymen’s hours prohibit

with all they dared to disregard.

i struggle to make out a face
its features framed of faint obscure

ne’er could i mistake
that feeling

the comfort of your company

forever, it resides within me.

with naught but useless
power of flesh

i flounder in this hopeless muster

holding onto dust
the taste of rust upon my quivered lip

all that i do humbly ask
would you now hear this utterance

“just one simple sentiment, i miss you.”.

through these memories, i bleed
into somatic nights of static

’til our stars again align

go now

ravage every sky
that stings with freedom
whence sought of your heart’s requite

[image credit: Sadanobu Hasegawa IV]

Before Us

to awaken
into death

is the dream
none dare brandish

listless, heavy-lidded
landslide

in somnolous languor

beholden to the mercy
of a cursed blink

and the blinding
of our blackest truth

laid out
to die
before us

[image credit: Francisco de Goya]

Cross My Heart

if you
kill me now

i won’t complain

i will not make a sound

i cross my heart
and hope to die

if only
in your arms

 

[image credit: Harry Clarke]

Hollow

this pithy endeavor

shadows of dust
masquerading through time

i looked away
laughing

returning
to barrenness

the warmth
of her touch

once
insisted eternity

how quickly
it vanished

seen
through open eyes

this sand
shifts beneath us

swallowing memories

until we are hollow

devoid
of our sentiments

i still walk beside her

footsteps
in spectral snow

when all
turned to nothing

and she was no longer

and i

left behind

[image credit: Odilon Redon]