“Left-Righting”

            A deep breath.

for there is calm despair in a broken land.
            all that is wrong is at least known and rational.

            And then angina.

for quickly the desperation advances, underlying

            all the lives and normalcies that (will) used to be.

            Exit from the league.

for those who had betrayed an Aryan race,

            all Germans must disagree with.

            Law is questioned.

for the Jews must be inferior, must have stricter regulations,

            all Jews must be persecuted by Nuremberg.

            Refused by the Savior.

for MS St. Louis sits in void black depths of sea.

            all on board knowing no reason for denial.

            Sparks emerge from friction.

for hatred makes flames and kaustos is “burned,”

            all the hopes melt from a night of broken glass.

            Everything burns.

for ash is the most assured nonsense.

            all the remains smell different, pages versus flesh.

            The word is concentration.

it is vivid with connotation.

            and the next noun is known by all.

            It is a final solution.

for there is a problem, a problem

            all the world seems unable to notice.

            The cries are not rounded.

they are jagged, distinct, & burdened with a private story.

            all rounding is absent in deathtolls

            and cries,

            even if we cannot count the longevity

even if

we can’t say

just how long each

lasted,

or what for.

            “Civilized” seems so barbaric now.

for black tires gnawing at innocuous white teeth

            all stuffed in a bloody mouth seems so

            civilized now.

            God laughs at humans.

for humans are always forgetting they are all humans,

            all the same make up & genotype & origin.

            There is no excuse for depravity.

for it is not a lesson but an instinct to know,

            all humans are humans, and what is the same is equal.

            Foresight should not be required.

for the left-righting seems so vital now.

            that left-righting seems,

so vital now.

            foresight should’ve been required

so the left-righting

            isn’t so vital now.

left,

left,

behind.

blue black eye

An angry crowd surges,

forward and back; it spreads:

one breathing entity

your back one more podium

of Freedom

the screaming is quiet

by constancy.

the eyelids are flickering now -

to keep alive

wild, wet eyes,

crying out against depravity’s bounds.

I stand in scratchy black waves

that slice open the skin at my toes.

I roll on bumpy asphalt -

hard to keep safe on, hard to stand

your blue black eye

brought a smile on my face.

you grinned right back,

image of

a challenge -

taken in stride,

with joy.

you stand on marble slate truth

justice and lawful and all that is proved,

you stand on molten glass bones:

the foundation of pure intentions.

your blue black eye

brought a smile to my face -

a real burning smile that

chapped the corners.

your blue black eye

almost as nice as your lips

stained with the blood of

conviction.

kissing your eyelids

and watching you flinch.

You,

sleep well for what you have done,

and I stay awake as I do,

kissing your blue black eye.

the brown, dank room,

riddled with blood and bones.

()

no one is curious.

and nobody wants to know.

()

there is a silver coin under

each tongue.

()

metallic & cold,

like the clang of their war

()

the flies are

the only ones

()

to profit

I have learned you latently,
a bauble in the crooked waters -
those which I’ve traveled courteously, often,
through which my oars knowingly saunter

a form in my perspiring heat,
built beneath the fog of my dim dehydration,
upon the rocks I know for each count -
on the passage others find damnation

it is a maze memorised, labyrinth gone,
from which no other has fully survived.
deep beneath, bubbling up now, I see,
you - it’s you - burnt and barely alive.

a blazing pit burns beneath any cool face.
the breeze on the grass flows lava, under.
the chilliest of queens felt warmth for a knight.
even icy atoms rip each other asunder.

my boat has flowed, unknowing
my oars pushed, unaware
my hands splashed, unbecoming
running crudely through your hair

my eyes have gazed, blindly
my feet have passed, never felt
my tongue has lapped at your waters
imagining stains of pebbles and kelp

YOUR BODY.   
incomprehensible   
unnavigated
unknown   

YOUR MIND.
incompatible
incongruous
never shown

but last you erupt and awaken,
take full force of my stream,
recollect your buried nightmares,
& share with me your bounty of dreams …

I have learned you latently.
what waves I crossed, I never knew
when I mapped the proper place,
I was never told I was mapping you

I dive deep and settle -
no places secret or unseen.
I navigate unhindered.
Now you must travel Me.

the earth was warm

The earth was warm beneath him. His back formed its deepest pleasure by pressing into the caves of the grass and the dirt. No matter what innocent twigs cracked to his folly; this unique warmth had him down for each summer’s breath. 

A woman, no taller than a jay feather from where he was, sat at the crest of the hill, staying within orbit of the large tree by her. Her leg, heavy, and deeply curved, as if her calves wished to be a bushy tail rather than a serpent’s body, lay bare to half the thigh, her dress skirts having swung up with the breeze. The wind blew softly upon her, teasingly – and had managed to untuff a few locks of hair. They twirled relentlessly, muttering its sweet nothings.

Summer had turned to Fall this day – for this tree she sat beside had sent a flock of dry, emaciated, crisp leaves for cremation. She had taken to crushing them with her hands, grabbing one or a few whole and curling them slowly into her delicate fingers till left only were pulverised jewels.

The man had stopped watching on his safe plateau of grass, untainted by Autumn. He too had quite a head of hair; affectionate curls hugged close to him; brown wisps burrowed in the crevices of his eyes and the wedge of his ears. He was slender, his grey sweater lagged behind him in piles of exhausted fabric – and while he stood it hung uncomfortably low on the sides, dragging him down almost humourously. The cool sun, filtered by those immense cumuli, dazzled the sweetness of his cheeks and emphasised the hollow of his eyes. When he blinked, he could taste his lashes on his skin.

And he fluttered and she crushed. As she drew a pile of these multi-coloured gems, she wondered if at first people could ever tell the difference. And so she spread it like paint across her brow and on her lips. She began to cover her bosom in the healthy leaves left yet. And she did not stop till she was quite covered.

Dazed, awakened from Half-Sleep of Nearby Thoughts (to wander in the hill metres away, to awake and find the clouds), the man slowly brought open his lids. He felt the imprint of the grass as it stained him, but brought nonetheless his body up from its stance to greet stupor. He began to walk to the girl, at first without intention and at last with all omniscience (he was by all opinions turned from her, with her back curved to make her eyes opposite him - but they both knew what was happening before it happened.)

She looked up from her book (for she had brought one and there had been one), her lips covered in mosaic flecks of red, brown, and yellow. As too were her eyebrows and he thought her marvelous in that moment.

She was in a simple teal dress and he in his sweater and black jeans, but he bowed so beautifully and she smiled such a quiet smile - why they just were something more.

Scooping down to his knee, he cracked a handful of leaves in his own hand and gestured closer. She lowered her head beneath him, and he admired the fringe of hair exposed upon her neck as the tendrils fell to front. She felt the trickle like dust upon her neck as he bathed her in her crown.

His smile pulled back his face - so narrow was it already - and his eyes crinkled something endearing when she looked up so silent and knowing. His laugh was not so much a laugh as it more like a quick hum of exhale a quick – what-a-pleasant-surprise breath and she understood.

And he took her hand in his own and put her breast to his and enveloped her pale full lips in his own dainty and pink and they fell back in the grass and in the dead leaves thinking it only colourful and delicate and gone. And little did they know that their love was soon a carcass in the wind

— being crushed and licked by the lips of other lovers.

sweet boy you might kill me

enveloped in soft humour good meaning
whispering quietly to god
your words are quiet & withering, seeming
to strike even the hearts of above

fidgeting in recklessness - fumbling 
breaking down strands of space as you go
entirely unaware of that tumbling
into love that you cause, so the woe

of loving you increases daily
jealousy bites quick as a snake
i can’t get over the way ye
take hold of my soul,  i 
might
break … 

my prediction

if our hands were intertwined,

mine would be pulling you towards me

would yours be limp and lack?

… that’s what i foresee …

my eyes ever grazing the lines of your spirit

(no matter how grey it may sound it is true)

i see no black and white among us,

it all blurs in a painting of you

our lips put together; i’d push hard

would you, chapped and charred, stand still?

stock still, as if burnt as a log?

… because as i see it, you will …

when the world was all grey and fuzzy i showed you the photo i took

and all you saw was my blanched white nothing

you showed me this photo you took of this green laughing grass and said

i don’t want to shock you

but here is a glimpse of what is

.

i murmured because i thought maybe loudness would diffract the photo

maybe it was too delicate 

.

‘let me see through your lens.’

            For a long time I thought the world only smelled of You.  One day I marked your scent upon the borders of my imagination and asked  nobody cross it. Please, nobody cross this heavenliness. Your stench will ruin the gardens. One time I thought the world only smelled of You, but even you were not clove or thyme.

            For a long time I thought the world only felt of You. I hovered in space without knowing, thinking your soft skin was what warmth meant, for the sun’s rays could not reach me in my vacuum. I didn’t comprehend fuzzy, rough, or taught. One time I thought the world only felt of You, but even you are not a tight-knit wool sweater or a chin of stubble.

            For a long time  I thought the world only tasted of You. Your cherry cheeks, berry lips, and vanilla bones. I didn’t eat my breakfast, lunch, or dinner, only needing one lick of You. One time I thought the world only tasted of You, but you are not the crème on fresh fruit or the butter on a warm bun.

            For a long time I thought the world only heard of You. A singer, with words that waved beneath any being, no matter size or hardship, and lifted them. I thought you were everything beautiful as a singer. Your advice was my testament. One time I thought the world only heard of You, but even you are not the pluck of the string or the quiet breathing of the lion which rumbles more than my heart ever did for you.

            For a long time I thought the world only saw of You. The way You sloped inwards, Your bones unable to hold themselves. The way Your skin always sat dark and tan and lovely upon marble stilts. Your capes of coloured satin and black endless hair. One time I thought the world only saw you, but you will never compare to my lover’s smile when she says she loves me.

            For a long time, I thought world only thought of You.

            I was wrong.

impossible nightmare

mindless is not the word I’d describe
you as, yet now you’re undefined
for words have seemed not to grasp
your mystery; they squeeze and rasp
‘tell me now your secret story
blasted, tell me quickly, hurry,’
and though you struggle and, blind,
you fly

serenity
will still
arise 

a break upon my back
travelling up the spine in zigzags
breaking up my support

I feel you on it
jumping upon me as if chanting
in front of a glowing fire
wild eyes
flickering against the flames 
wet lips
rolling out nonsense

and the chasm grows

heartless is not the word I’d use
it’s more this salt infused
within your SOULLESS SOUL YOUR LACKING LIFE
which tricks me to think HERE HE IS, THIS LOVE OF MINE.
he’s there he’s real!
HE’S GONE.
(that’s right.)

my hair ragged and torn
which I feel you pulling at
and I feel in each pore
the pain keen
of your ferocity
which licks pathetically
at the sores
 

demon is a word which you do not fit
you hack you cough you scream you spit
but only in my mind’s recesses
you’re neat and ordered and OBSESSIVE
run down your list and see me red
fix it (break it) – to evil, wed

my soul
bitten
as if it were a candy apple
meant to be
your fair treat
which you suck at
till it’s dry
and its core
is thrown to the ground
without taste

you are my nightmare
honest and deceiving
and diamond shatters on the floor
you break
what I thought
most hard

you impossible
nightmare