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Literature Text
I want you to feel me, touch me, hear me, understand me,
translating the urge to unleash my hearts deepest plea.
Come closer here and peer into this photograph of my soul,
the inner workings of the complexities that make me whole.
These optical illuminations inside a stained glass window,
come and find yourself absorbed in my textual crescendo.
Arranged in fractured pieces of darkness and colored light,
all the while illustrating myself in words of black and white.
Driven by an expression of feelings that no other could reflect,
as one forever striving to convey their own mosaic affect.
This freedom of self that my spirit will never relinquish,
a verbal artist until the end when death decides to extinguish.
translating the urge to unleash my hearts deepest plea.
Come closer here and peer into this photograph of my soul,
the inner workings of the complexities that make me whole.
These optical illuminations inside a stained glass window,
come and find yourself absorbed in my textual crescendo.
Arranged in fractured pieces of darkness and colored light,
all the while illustrating myself in words of black and white.
Driven by an expression of feelings that no other could reflect,
as one forever striving to convey their own mosaic affect.
This freedom of self that my spirit will never relinquish,
a verbal artist until the end when death decides to extinguish.
Literature
Phantom
She's always seen during
daylight -
yet her beauty is
nocturnal.
I, with shaking hands
[and nerves],
wrapped her round me
like a scarf,
though she still gives
me midnight chills
and spasms of pain
Her friends pick daisies and
pierce the stems with their
fingernails,
link them together like
&#
Literature
Of Blood and Ink
I've met a boy
between the pages of a book
where the last true people live
their lives
marked as
delusions and lies
I've met a boy there
in a land of thoughts and pains
he carried his soul
ghostly and gray
embraced by flesh of ink and blood
a spirit in a cage of black and red
painted by silvered ash
and iron-steel
I've met a boy made of parchment
and stabbing pain behind my eyes
and somehow he is dear to me
like a jewel in my
collection of fantasy
though I know
many call him cruel
evil and rude
no morals, no noble law
never hero
far from it
a vow breaker
dirty killer
tricky cheater
and a heart without a soul
but I also see raw clear honest
Literature
Blood and Dusk
i held a harvest-handful
of your moonlight,
held your shape
and edges, both
deceivingly sharp
cut through the dull
filtering
airborne layers
of blood and dusk
between us
i held the edges
of an impossible baby,
a hole of undreamt weight
born into the skies
of my hand
his blood and mine, lay
autumn's thin film down,
a gauze sheet
between expressions of
lives relived, love and loss
and between apologies,
its coarse weave
softly bludgeons, blots
features and details
into digestible memories
our ghost skins
darken-in, where
our eyes and mouths
collect the blood and dusk
of sight, breath and wonder
how this atmosphere
can just hang, bruised
b
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