cherub stomp

a glance aside
gives view of a solar blare
of impoverished yearning
the heat of deficiency,
it's bankrupt embrace
all but smothering
any recognition of eulogy

stop grasping please....
the claws need to be rescinded
there is no help from this quarter
for those who can't sight
their innocence
the drain sucks all hounded waders
into waves thick with the
bend and wrack of
errant swimmers lost
on boulders of wonderlust and demand

sorry mate, you're on your own
ravenous cherubs haunt these shoals
and all those on a narrow course
must suffer themselves jested

pneuma rent

look into the mirror what do you see? is that a reflection of yourself? a love? foe? or all three...... listen through the receiver who is that you get? is that an echo of amor? converse with yourself? or did a ghostly apparition answer by? stare at that flat screen what is the first glance? an avenue to elan? ruptured lapse thru sane? or just a multi-pseudo link to the non? scooped up and hanging those who tread the lines too close be leery of those met where they repercuss themselves

le chemin étripé

show a little kindness to that dog of war
give it shelter, warm and feed
wrap it's scars in your loving prayers
for your reward will far exceed

for what this 'beast' has seen and felt
what it has imagined that has sadly become real
what it can transcend through effort of will
we have already been blessed to be spared,
oh yes....he's dealt

we need this guide to show the way
the way through the scuzz,
disease and fire
the way through the mind,
the bowels, the arts
the way to our childhood's
joys and mire
and let's not forget acceptance......our hearts

so follow it blindly, it knows the way
knows it well old friend is he
it can lead us out, away and beyond
behind the troops and far,
oh....away

don't look or veer, don't stray from him,
do not lose sight, don't fail the key
for it is immune, it has seen it all
once and again
twice over times three

....for the chien de Guerre

d ceptus inevitabilis

how am I arrived here?
in these oppressed shadows
hunkered and hindering
a progression slowing to a mundane pace
every glimmer to be accounted for
lest this life steel me

I am the vexed seraph
who lurches and flails
these espied and mimicked embraces
burn and scab over my exposed cheek

to be on point
continually straining the remembrance
of my love's leash
to scout and arraign every moment's joy
that is not my own

where is your touch?
that stroke that coasted
long tangled limbs dewed with exertion
I can feel it's reply still
the whisper of flesh sailing flesh
your eyes
unwavering in their message

I love you
loved you
loathe......

too much,
the routines marked and parroted
their time in the corona slipping through the ring
a fully blossomed cataclysm abounding with crust
......I can't keep this static

help me
don't hinder our destiny
it's cold recourse only an accidental decree
but prey, please don't fret
the casualties need only be caged aquivering
to allow my pulsing moira's romp

rainbow chasm

you left
left me here, here by the water's edge
with no succor....abandoned

you left
a heart, withered and hard
hopes flown and blasted
from the rainbow arced sky

you left
a compass flinging wild
directions left off the itinerary
no crumbs left to swallow

you left
a lone and scarred shadow
with a reckless scrabbling for tenure
dirt flung at the bastard gods

you left
a discarded shell
picked clean of warmth and rapture
the bones ashy and arid
no joy pulsing through these veins

you left
....a chasm

le voyage vide

sitting by the turnpike
left stranded by the ruins
a steady stream of misuse ripples by

waiting for a transit
that seems to have stalled somewhen
where were you going?
have you already passed this way?

this lethargic oasis
is a lonely heart's desert crag
to see the echo of your progress
the rubbed ether raw with bled out zeal

to reach out and almost....is that your essence?
but alas no, just a ghostly mumble
a fledged aura left to mark your journey there

gibbet disco

the soul noose grows braited and taught,
a shroud-lain pretension that was wound with the sun
it prowled in when your attention was on survival

some people know how to play that game,
yes they do....
distract you with weaves and angelic catechisms,
then writhe in and wrap themselves around your essentia,
tighter than the buttresses rammed up against a walled jewel

why do some feel so compelled to harness and trap,
engage and transact the devoutly unblemished?
do the brooders shine with a special beacon of naiveté?
a radical spectrum of fractured narcissism?

or do those preyers long for satisfaction silked and delished,
the feasting off the clumsy thrashings of a novice pundit?
who's only recourse is to dive off the edge of balance,
the right-laid braid snapping, severing, braying
all recognition of delight

yea.....
some people know how to play this game