Black Tears

clothe me in your sorrow
I will be exquisite in the rags of your pain
bathed in your rancid fear,

your hurt will be mine. the
jarring violence of a ruined heart,
the bitter cold of loneliness, and
all the tears you can not find
I will shed. precious as pearls
the drops will fall from my eyes

painting by Jel Ena

.

waste

the concertina wire's persistent sharpness

is unbroken but it can only

hum as it tries to snag the wind,

a discordant despair with

no true economy, lines 

are twisted desire to hold

squalid hopes banked against need.

an orange glow with no warmth

B

A

R

a neon sunrise in the cold dim

6 a.m. light. closed.

there are no spirits to thin the blood

only the drowned ghosts of

memories and regrets swept 

into the corners with the busted teeth,

puke, piss and blood.

debris.

nostalgia remembered on 

a dusted shelf or derelict in a

mummified desert. lives become 

trinkets abandoned.  golden trash.

land fills and grave yards fill

with preciousness

.

ćutim

a vaseline softness holds the

light, only suggesting shadows.

the silence spins, hints of 

teeth held together

in denial, a small gasp

waiting, or sugared lips in the

act of unzipping.

potential is almost decided.

my hands move on the silent fabric

a womens scent rises.  

there is no plot to this waiting

or depth of vacancy to deter

the repousse of memory

an ear pressed to the murmur of a heart,

warmth of comfort, a vector of rest.

the days of my breath advance,

small turbulences lost in the stillness

that doesn't release me

.

lyric

I will sing the moon red,

words ripe with the blood

of a young god.

a benediction for nothing.

fingers worshiping flesh,

eyes seeking the salvation of beauty.

I will breath until I stop and live

until the flame of memory dies

.