Category Archives: Pallor

Rote

Thirty-eight today,
And the days are kind.
But I feel them- blind
Words accumulating-
Which need saying?

You write from a different state,
And my love still smolders,
But no longer can these shoulders
Carry the heavy weight:
Admission to your spinning fête.

A carnival empire
Bleeding heirs
Begging to be spared
From a survival-bent liar:
Unwitting victim and victimizer.

You stand as your own narrator
Proclaiming all you’ve accomplished
I’m a forced-accomplice
And sometimes-spectator,
But what do you say to your Creator?

Do you say to the Lord
”Look at all I’ve done in Your name?”
We both know that refrain
Strikes the wrong chord,
And costs more than you can afford.

So why do you fill these days
Practicing it in rote?
A demanding gloat
Or an empty craze:
An entry-fee of praise.

I’m worried sick about you.
You’re old, and you’re ill,
And you’re unchanged still.
With all time put us both through,
You will not be subdued-

Thirty-eight years askew,
But I do care, and I will,
Because I love you still.

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Fear

Fear is the beast that ever gnaws
A gaping, jagged throat
Churning and swallowing,
In salivating gloat

Over the next meal.


Remembrances

When the fog was lightly lifting,
And the sun came stretching through,
Like some ancient seed of hope
Breaking ground and blooming new,
The fresh life in my arms
Brought back forgotten days with you

I yearned to answer light with light,
To lift the mist atop your years
Returning kindness, even joy,
As the confident victor over fear
And in the silence of my words,
I reached to pull you near.

Three days past:
Remembrances of why we sever ties.
Three days past,
You sent the threats and lies
The creeping fog
Which has capsized us.

How can any sunrise break
Into the fog that takes you?


Waiting

How long I’ve desired
Something timeless
Love watching me sleep,
Something to keep
When the mundane crimes
Accuse me.

Hard breaths, and long,
I’ve sent out my sonar
My words echo so far
Reflecting off future stars
Coming back home
Alone.

And I know hope, the answer
She’s a veiled street-dancer
And peddles for free
Wares redemptive to me,
But the music runs long,
A song I can’t remember

How to sing.


Terminal Velocity

Oh, the worlds which in
I’ve dwelled, passing again
Through mist by mist
Faces erupting, faces dim
I must, I muster, I am
Fumbling graceless
On some twist of sin
And tasteless chaos
Where I’ve been reduced
Now incoherent echoes
Of meaningless words
Lost consonants
And low vows.

I wait for the rain
Which falls in me
To soak the solid
Am I insane?
Is insanity
The absence of hollow
Or the ability to see?
Can life possess
Or in truth be
An isolation tank?
I sank into sensory deprivation-
It sank back into me,

And still I’m tumbling
In the great descent.


Chemistry

It’s only alchemy
These combinations firing
Inside of me
This volatile language
My body reads
And obeys.

Data swimming
In a chemical stream
Informing every iota,
Every atom in me,
What I am to feel;
Who I am to be-

But I resist, I persevere:
I will not fear my basic chemistry.


Footfall Notes

I remember you
Walking in slowly like fingertips
Transversing a weeping piano
Notes as quiet drops slowing,
Collecting on the pane
That holds us at bay.

I heard you
Humming a doleful dirge
Between the bars
That stir our hearts
To refrain, to merriment, to holiday-
Your solemnity undergirding

The beauty of your sway.