Archive for April 2019

The organ played – harshly, sadly and slowIt would render a solemn tune, muted by a distant black crowAlone in the field the bird cackled aloudDrawing glares and scowls from the dwindling crowd The mourners shift and stretch, yearning for the service to be doneThey are sustaining their gaze ahead, toward the bright shining sunNow…

When you are only 3 or 4 the terror will render you frozenMuted from the ability to cry out in fear, From expressing the horror that would be likely to crush you. The figure of a shadow could be seen heading down the hallIts image would obscure the light from the passagewayThat would otherwise reveal…

Oh, to emerge in shining fettle, abandon the crush of terror, bask in obscure shadow of bliss. Aching for absence   to reveal the source, the escape from chaos. Once I was admired like Prometheus, bound above a gorge, far from brook or field.   A pathetic figure to mystify the curious and clueless. A…

you left me bent, gravity-bound to you— adrenaline scoring her nails down my back, an opera, prima donna sustaining a quavering note of such urgency an organ is driven through the mouth to spill teenage crush after teenage crush— terror:  confine me to spaces so tight i have no choice but to stretch,to break—         emerge.…

I welcome all of you to my sumptuous feast, not everyone was invited. I feel duty bound to warn you that some manifestations are not always what they seem. I trust that all of your devices have been muted? Do not speak, just nod your heads up and down and smile. It is not my…

She speaks a various language.*                                                Bound in the bardo bereft     vaguely present, almost dead.For fucking shining aloud            let me    back in. Come again, sustaining terrorCarve my shadow on your cave wallsRender me a soul, source me     mystify, crush, obscure me          in your deepest gorge       confine, stretch, reveal me     Let me wobble               stand. Details shift.…

Only interested in scoring, you are a terror who likes to carve out holes in a woman’s self esteem. My body remained a fine fettle as you used your sexual organ to try and crush my will.You became remote as you muted my NO’s, as if they weren’t said, if you didn’t hear me speak…

Yesterday I went blind.No sudden crush of ebonied nightUnder which fractured stars emergeNo molten terror that does shift and spitover fettle, through weathered gorgeNo such desperate revealNo such merciful source Yesterday I went blind, and it did all to mystify. For as a subtle shadow, ennui did creep from lateral confine.With the ache of a…