Poetry
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Overcome, as I might, The candles of the past That light their way back to an eclipse Of all my memories stored in an urn, Where titles are burned to scarlet flesh, As eyes are more the shadows Than the pages of history. I am facing the tides of the future That whelm me in…
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Salient, and unseen Has been the portrait, that captures your complexion Among each crevice, to fall into To the deepness, of your flesh, Among its depth, in knowing what had passed Being the time, that remained frozen. All had passed Was my hands, to pull free, the veil To see twin suns, pointing their lighthouse…
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How can I call life a true existence, In the marriage of death? You were all that I came to be, Kissing out those songs for eternity. I truly knew That you were true For the arms that have held only the collected stones Dropped from eyes, left not sown. I wanted life beside the…
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How many eyes can perform the ocean’s settling To be drowned of itself, To form the desert, at its feet? I am your new light That exists, only to be in fright Of many whiles, where tears are shed, As skin is shed Over the Hell I call my home, Over the well that collects…
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Fall with waves That lean towards the pedestal Where I am seen Raised, upon the trunk of eternity. I am still too numb To see any higher Beyond the mere vessel That sails, only to move With the wind, With the current, In the fading hours of this frozen dream.
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Do not try To wrap your arms around my bleeding body When I am attempting to let go Of the blood that flies. I am attempting to let go of the book Full of pages, stung by the ink, Of feelings that have turned into the blackness Of their ebony shape, Laid upon the white…
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Tell me your hour When to meet, by a frozen stream, That I may lick the tears That have become as often as the night Is to you, beyond the realization of the sun That could warm you, Beyond the you That does not want to smile. I love Without sickness to my words, For…
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I seem to have a glimpse To what cannot be missed Of her, by the ashes Of one previous decaying world Her fingers have brought upon To cease splendor, into hollowness. Like the moon with its craters, Like the sun with its core, Where coldness descends into burning lust, As life leaves its place, to…
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How many tears Must soak the glass in my cup? How many Will leak from the shallowness of my eyes? For all I’ve seen Is the backwards of me, As I surface through The sun with its smallest share of darkness, Because it cannot warm the universe Where I am lost. I feel ice Upon…
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What rained scarlet With the dying moon? Her razor tongue Dries the porcelain away from the newest life, That falls into oldest death. I am one trip away From leaving this place Forever, away from the decay That leaves a taste upon my own tongue, While her bitterness is still Upon my lips. Love unmentioned…
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Murder is a quickened route For a heart made of silver, Sculpted by ivory hands, To make the wares for meals set in place Upon the table, Where nothing goes to waste. I am, in the eyes of a distorted relative of mine, The man whose love could cross the shallows of Hell To reach…
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Piloted tensions, Overwhelming decisions To create the flames, that do not ever descend Down towards the waters, For not even such shimmers of such puddles Wish to reach for their mothers, For their skies, Of where they were let loose. Does rain fall, Or do tears? I have welcomed love, like a black cloak about…
Modern Romanticism 