Now, that yesterdays peel away like sunburnt skin,
the scent of rain softens my angry, sharp-edged soul
My veins of river water, my clay flesh, my bones made of sin
pulled by the undertow of the past, a puppet of confusion, sorrow Continue reading “no backup disaster”
A proto-poem
On storm scented days, the sky was populated by grey warbirds
their feathers consumed the bright, with lighting and rain for words
On war scented nights, all the stars joined into a sonorous roar
to shatter the million poisonous bits making up its dark core
It’s a book of tradition, a tale of sorrow,
like the snake on the mighty apple tree,
like a river of time, cutting through
generations of living flesh and mind.
With my arms behind my back,
bound with past beliefs and moral
I took pride in this mold of duty.
Safely hugged by those chains, Continue reading “native tongue”
1) talk
2) tears
3) TIME
the template was destined to be wrong.
It took me decades to see why.
history of mistakes added up to delusion
alien failures became domestic madness Continue reading “3Ts”
2) Tears
I am made of ocean breeze and sea spray,
a sliver of eternal mutability at heart,
I’m the erratic riptide on rocks of fire, Continue reading “3T”
1)
Talk –
is the rustling leaves in the soft wind,
in the whisper of sheets in the nooks of blue
is the nightly cricket’s song for fireflies,
