Bent Under Pressure

Drifting off to sleep,
our room showered with golden-coral light reflected, slumber welcoming
sheets skim my bare skin, and I embrace pillowed comfort around me, sweet scent
my aroused surface, powder soft, hair raised anticipation, invisible
fixed for touch, open.
What feels like moments is probably hours, enough time to dream of you close -
I awake, lights dim, blankets lifted with stumbling silence, golden light gone,
sour scents – your breath – sweet acrid  fermented spirit, clouded visions move
I waited, this time
hours alone again, no longer surprised –  long gone, other times for years.
I would always hope one day you would choose love over substances, lost hope
nightmares, those false voices of home reflected in your isolation
controls you alone,
chained to your vices you hide, afraid of shameful secrets that block your love.
Bitter notes hanging fragrant in the air, with silence stumbling, you remain
hidden behind self-created walls, my love a rejected chisel, prods,
bent under pressure.

Rough

In perfected silence, brilliant stillness
the swelling of my heart built pressure,
frozen emotions, unspoken words
hardened enough to burst forth diamonds,
those unconscious clarifications,
shining a falsified perfection
from my coal-blackened soul
shredding all evidence of truth in its wake,
all that glittered, a fake.
Make no mistake - this love, my essence
fought to toss aside numbness
fed on my desire,
exists.
My soul tumbled, a burnished stone
a million times too big for its home
denied access to share borders with others
tried to smooth out deals of transcendence,
words that could pretend,
rub away my very existence.
If I caught the light, a façade of shadows
clung to me, haunting words
created interwoven filigree,
only those with keen eyes look into me
see the hidden kiln within
stare into the flames, feel heat
without fear.

Still Reeling

Days of clouds created haze, doubts
poured through soul to soul
mist drifted - penetrated pores
sifted through sleeves, up skirts
no discretion,
a lazy daze fashions a beautiful mess,
of cells, blood, bone,
put the good foot flat down
grasp the edges of the earth
rearranged certainty
embers stoked ardently
hard enough, hot enough
stoked smoke, billowed
licked the roof, sparked flames
dazzled dancing on the ceiling
still reeling, caught in light
fought shadows, burned for home.

of Blood and Marrow

I plunge, heart encased in hands, thrust forward in motions that scream
“take me” to life, to death, to all the mess that hangs off me like the murk of dark waters
waiting to arrest my soul without anyone knowing the fear that binds me to the earth,
a being ensconced, veins and guts showing traces of filth. Run your lines through me,
slice along my seams, smell the stink, feel the steam, the last moments of life stripped clean
of blood and marrow, my heart races, tongues-tie deep inside, your eyes meet with mine,
we no longer hide. I remember the moment we tried, halfhearted succumbing, almost fading
into oblivion – a litany of unending one-sided conversations, death is not the end.
Your eyes like mine, living the in-between life, lost in a sea of mediocrity, suspended,
scanning the horizon for hands – pull hearts from sludge, blackened burned glow, collide.

 

 

Proclivity

What if we were honest for a moment,
everything we feel poured forth before
fear took hold and strapped us down
what would you say and to whom?

Does it even matter this noise and clatter
rolling, droll in the waves of the mind
from wake until sleep, caught in expectation
a calamity of a proclivity to hold it all in?

Why break my heart, deft in romanticism,
a defense mechanism, survival
in a poisoned womb, all insanity
inability to hide, a need to become undone?

Moments Arrive On time

Apply the salve in the same manner great art is made
with thought, care, planning, passion and purpose
heal the heart before a refill
allow the damage to spill through the cracks
then patch that shit up.

Build your room of serenity,
take it with you, it’s you who gets it free,
but first you must ask for what you need,
see the projected wall of anger posed as passion,
listening ears are waiting, look up.

Come closer than you’ve ever been
mix tresses, touch hands and build
new thresholds to cajole verdant blossoms to climb
intertwined new ideas side-by-side with deep roots
this moment is power, rise-up.

Restore Resistance

You are a fool if you think you are the only one
beyond wishes that only the names will change
protecting the perception of innocence
small town life lurking behind every shadow
erasing anonymity
pushing the daring to the edges
where we can watch from the sidelines
and slip away to participate.
With keen observation, I see
limited hegemonic dimorphic ideals of beauty
empty shells filled with filth
decorated in porcelain cream skin.
Find me when your fear of death dissipates
eyes ready for clarity, when you stop
scanning the room for charity
some compensation for all your failings
the past is your blockade to the key -
restore resistance, be free.

I Was Waking

I was waking; slumber pulled back
held reality in shadow
earth tilting into spirals stretch, skewed
reviving desolate landscapes – mid-west mellow
sunshine captured threads swaying in breezes that smelled of death.
The storm always looming, shoes threatening to drop
violent lilac turning to midnight blackness along the horizon
I remember houses emptying, the calm of desolate panic
shedding all but flesh in hopes of survival.

Fingers Needle Medulla

This one is for you, for every long glance wondering who,
for every moonlit walk, your sudden stare,
for every time you turned and found me there
knees pressed under tables,
elbows in familial dance,
waiting, for you to feel brave
filled with enough electricity to finally propel
fingers to find me, guide my hands to your cheeks
eyes fearless enough to connect.
Filled my heart with tender dreams, peaceful schemes
lunar magic breezes across bare legs and I
wanted to fall into clouds of music
soft light magic, I called
opened my eyes, you closed the door.
Magical friend of intense motionless muddle
held in my pocket of ecstatic dreams
I stretched the fabric to show the seams
fragile threads I can never replace
I hoped with some small miracle
to retrace, my fingers needle medulla,
the ink of you seeped into me
threaded, sleep took me
alone upon your bed.

Suspended

Sweet perfumed slumber take me -
pressed lips to wrists, tussled hair linger on
suspended in a perfect dream
shared scents lingering
in scarlet moon shadows,
I watched limbs stretch, asunder
lines grew deep as laughter
lightened the darkness
surprising senses unknown
for now.