a cozy home

deep within the catacombs

they live.

footsteps and assault of progress

haunt the silent ones below.

though silent, their groans echo

within the nooks and crannies of bone.

secretly they yearn the day

when they can say, hello.

 

 

 

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day of the dead

in space, i wonder, if they celebrate the day of the dead—

memories of people now spirits, and energy transformed

past horrors and beacons of hope now faded in time

left to decay in the vacuum of the sublime

black holes inhale souls rapidly, as we on earth pass on

the event horizon is now our heaven and hell,

and purgatory becomes our nursery where we become stars

to unite as galaxies, to cradle others with our spiraling arms.

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crags

Amongst lonesome crags
Were rotting corpses in trash bags
They rested in manure
Home to insects of every nature
The human buoys would never know
The ocean below
Their souls would keep
Close to black crags and black sheep
Of the land where blood steeps

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dead play

there’s puss;
it drips from nerves-
frayed and stiff

a heavy form,
meaty and bloated
with kisses of bruises
awaits a puppet master.

spirit, races and fades-
fingers and toes twitch in the wind.
the heavy form moans;
life is bent into submission.

insects converge on heavy form;
they’re the minions of living decay,
rebirth threatens nature’s way-
a dead form to coax others to play.

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Frozen Blue

Two orbs held me from beyond the frozen blue.
They resolved to render me helpless
but failed to keep me subdued.

I could see the grey veins and bloated face.
They resolved to bind me and freeze me in place
but left me with little more than a poker face.

A solid, cracked oval screamed in silence.
It resolved to make me pay
but it’s dry limp tongue gave me leeway.

I could tell this body, frozen in the lake,
resolved to hover more
before it sank.

The body sunk down, moved beneath the ice,
resolved to seek relief
from my bloody knives and strife.

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Blue Waves

The shiny red car zipped along,
the bugs and asphalt could barely hold on.

On the right, blue waves waved hello as an ocean shore stood watch,
to the left, trees and houses were scattered about, scarcely a match.

A faint image rested ahead along the beaten road,
shacks broken and spirits caught among the nets;
shattered lobster tails littered dank and rotted planks of the piers.

The shiny red car zipped along,
they wanted to arrive to greet the first song.
But plans changed when the driver veered;
He swerved left then right, and wrestled the car
through the wasted shacks and into the nets,
fear cascaded amongst the usual suspects.

The blue waves crashed and tangled with the shiny red car.
All four inside fought to break out,
but only one managed to part the waters and
snake their way through the wreckage and the dead.
He tore through the water and forced the blue waves aside,
the rocky shore lent him its grained cold shoulder as a guide.

The next year he returned to the same beaten road between land and shore
only to find a sign that read, dead end.
Three crosses of shell, rocky shore and grained sand
jetted out to offer an extended hand.
Paralyzed with guilt, he clutched his throat and cried.
A crooked grin transformed him with each chuckle that emerged;
“they’ll never know what happened then- they got what they deserved.”

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