Blood spatter slurs
on wet tile:
rorschach blots
without interpretations
(June 29, 2019)
After the Trigger’s Pulled
Inner Truth
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
somewhere, nearby
vague, yet pervasive,
like these whispers
which define all
as some other than me,
some other voice–
always here
not just an echo
of myself
(June 24, 2019)
Without Clearly Marked Exits
A room carved
into his heart–
no door,
but a room
without a candle.
His heart
a hollow room
without a candle.
He desired a candle,
to watch it burn,
but there was no match,
or he would burn,
the world would burn,
the house would burn
into ash,
into ash,
into ash:
ash
and wind.
(June 20, 2019)
Revision to a Desired Narrative
A scintillant dust
shallows his breath;
memory hovers above
them both, a ghost-
vague, yet resonant,
like tattered filament,
shrouds, or tendons
lifted slowly from bone.
Even shaped to reform,
nascent affirmation’s
echoes are just
echoes blurring whispers
into silence, like wisps
adrift between gravestones.
(June 20, 2019)
Hubris
Not the one, or the one,
but one:
Humility
strikes down
even gods.
I am who I am,
but without
the silence to kill.
I forgive us both
the slippery hope we shared.
Together we were more
than one discordant circle.
Wrapped in dry mouth’s
slow-tongued kiss,
we blurred beneath
late autumnal leaves.
(June 16, 2019)
Limitation
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
Random borders set blurred forms
to contain apportioned bits
of chaos. He accepts these
chains, like religion, to free
himself from the infinite.
(June 10, 2019)
Dispersion
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
Without god to save us,
a breeze slips through
the sycamore’s leaves
slightly sifting the heat away
from the shade beneath.
We must find ourselves
within ourselves, or perish.
Light dapples the grass between us
like butterflies over flowers.
(June 7, 2019)
