to give away

Each step on the road I take,

Each step on this line of blood,

A bullet point on the list of suffering

-if only I could understand

what does a human need?

A starving human doesn’t need freedom.

SHe craves clean water and healthy food.

A dumb human doesn’t need freedom.

SHe craves guidance and entertainment.

no backup​ disaster

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

The Parttime Harpy

A proto-poem

 

On storm scented days, the sky was populated by grey warbirds

their feathers consumed the bright, with lightning and rain for words

On war scented nights, all stars joined into a sonorous roar

to shatter the million poisonous bits making up its dark core

 

By the Book

 

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.

 

native tongue

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,

3Ts

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

3T

1) Talk

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,

The Three Ts

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,

numb

is a hotel room I have no memory of

is a layer of discarded skin and dust

is a patched-up-river of cut movement

is my daydream sewed together into

something comprehensible and real

more genuine and true than the actual day