Sunday, November 28, 2010

rabbits, under two nests, in the field,

the sun expands! and it expands under my feet!
but waterfalls, black waterfalls, and diamonds spin and shiver
held tightly
in my hands
there seem inverted mountains
that'd be fine, to wait
"no. no need,"

and red, also/
hard to not repeat the same things overand over, but might be significant cycles
and three years, or two
and three years, or two
and merging together
and merging together
afer darkness, but still ancient songs
in bones, exist
wait, it is here,
wow, now it all comes

Saturday, November 27, 2010

A deep red bed,
and circles, rushing inside circles inside circles, inside circles
My eyes look above but,
"At least I know. Yes, yes, at least I now know,"

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Communion Song, Pt I

In a church with high ceilings,
vines encircle a piano
shaking the floorboards, where lilies are planted,
and inhabitants are curled up
under the pews
as stained glass melts and
hardens each body.
How each heart is looking towards pleasure,
in a time of despair.
Yet still, my brother plays
a funeral song,
one about disappearing
amidst a divination,
at a shared dinner table.
Yet, my heart felt at rest
and my small hands
held on to each passing note.

Stars moved from their assigned paths
and fell into my eyes
where I saw the lungs of the Creator.
And in their exhales, a most
beautiful song--
one about disappearance,
a greatest hope.

Communion Song, Pt II

I am disappearing
but I am at rest
inside my brother's song
in a historical meal
and a hopefulness fills each soul
as we move into
a parallel'd position
where we look towards a mystical
coming, as two, or a single being.
I am yet flickering into nothing completely.
I am being twisted
in a tiny sphere
amongst black stars,
and a furthest heart
rumbles into the center of a fragmented hemisphere,
where a bedroom in a dark wood is filled
with embers, and you
held the match.

Tied to my hands are ribbons of red
and a man pulls them
to lead me to my tumultuous demise
steps downward
I am disappearing
into a brook
where there is no shore,
only branches,
and branches for miles.

I am going further
into shades of black--
sometimes crimson.
each time he taps an ebony key,
I stumble,
and my ribbons are tangled
and I become close to
my oppressor, a man
in woolen blankets,
telling me to rush,
to not stumble,
for what I have to do is an important task,
one to be done immediately,
and never feeling so far from
a clearly recognizable point,
in my mind's map, I know
exactly where I reside, but
the universe expands with every
step I take and it expands under my feet.
I have no home
and my heart is not found in the steadily
increasing heat of my (body?)
How could I
fade entirely,
without a defined choice?
I feel my words have fluttered to a better home.
but your hands are made of clay.
yellow birds sing in the pear trees
beside the nook in my bedroom.
I could make you
a pillow to rest your head on, but no,
I cannot heal your disease.
three felt divine,
maybe there is less than i realize.
I yearn for white.
white on white on white on white
white for an eternal shimmer
white for my unchanging castle home
i am leaves
on the bark of your tree.
How are we all cracked to let
the Divine inside?
or are we slightly open,
to let It out?
one day, your heart will stop
and then where will we be?

holding hands, above the clouds?