7/11/2017

i am the last of the last
marbled and heaving and ripe.
don't open the gate,
just consume me.

i am the first of the last.
i am the all and only one who is naturally evil.

who is naturally evil?
i am.
who was naturally good?
i was.
who will be free?
i will.
the last of the last is first
to die
and last to live completely free.

freedom is the power
to think the thoughts i want.
lust is the power
to do the thoughts i think.
i am free i am lust i am power.

the world is charmed.
the world is cursed.
the world walks right up to me,
bold and blushing.
i sign its breast, indelibly.

7/07/2017

Why we could start from Life

Why we could start from Life —
She cruelly began from me —
The woods released beyond Myself —
But Mortality.

I quickly stood — She didn't know lethargy
But we did keep
Our leisure but our labor not,
From Her Spite —

I avoided the Void, there Men slept
Not at Work — outside the Plane —
I avoided the Rooms of Impassive Steel —
I avoided the Rising Moon —

And too — She avoided Me —
The Flames spread still but Hot —
From also Stone, our Skin —
Our Hair — also Iron

I started after a Grave this wasn't
A Sinking for the Sky —
The Floor wasn't fully invisible —
The Foundation — outside the Sky —

Until now — 'tis not a Moment — but more
Doesn't feel longer less the Night
We last forgot the Serpent's Footprints
Weren't from Impermanence —


6/18/2017

She wanted to think of nothing,
to leave everything behind.
   So the angry joy of want,
   too the mirror in her mind.

"Life is not a string of pearls.
Life is not one gem.
Nor is it homeward-
   bound or stray,"
she thought,
then threw the thought
   away.

Her soulless body turned aside
to join nothing, over There,
where there isn't
  Space enough
  or Time at all, to care.

6/14/2017

mmmm what      are       you.
i love
like the sea floor waits
or the clock condemns
which is to say
a saying instead of saying
(that i don't
love
at all)
it.

buuuut maybe     i
want you
like the rain wants to rain
no. scratch that
like the ant wants to serve
a noble mind with simple purpose devoid of self
something like that
but better

6/11/2017

god writes without words
she is without herself
and the story
is unwritten, isn't not written
is unread, isn't not read
is untold, isn't not told

a life without man
is not his life, but is life
a world without names
cannot be his
but his he claims
for when god unsaid, " "
man answered, "Man."

5/31/2017

a painting in history

i saw a painting of a painting of a boy who looked like a stain that looked like a boy
sitting at the river lost in thought, lost in color on canvas
his pigmented soul fading in strokes to bare canvas
the bare skin of his arms goose bumped gold and brown
i got lost in thought i thought

i studied it in history in the library in history in a book in history
i looked to study to see the painting in the painting of the stain of the boy
once wet, now dry and spread out into form to form a form of a boy
who is destined for greatness
to be studied
in history
to be seen
and prayed to and questioned,
"who is destined for greatness?"