nice (20160715)

so many dead
so easy to pretend they sleep
they feel no pain
suffer no longer
at the hands
of any reality
or any nightmare wrought
by human hands

but sleep they do not
for the sleeping do not howl
do not ask why
do not fill up the earth
with their bones
the sea with their ashes

what prayers
will reach
which god first

——

response to
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Nightmare
and the world as it is

revenant (20160712)

i saw a revenant
working at starbucks

of course, he still had
to smile–it’s the law

he looked over the tops
of everyone’s heads

not like he was above
pulling espresso

more like he was dead
and that whatever spirit

that once played guest (or geist)
had fled and left him

with just the smile
and lights out eyes

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Guest

the coldness of the moon (20160711)

the feelings appear
like a sudden moon
shining in the night sky
darkness ripped away all at once

but the stars are so small
and so very far away
far away from me
far away from each other

i will own this sadness
though it’s not authentic
this melancholy that turns
like a record in a jukebox

that spreads its roots
like a tree growing
from my chest, bursting through
bones and sinew

i will carry it
because letting go is cowardice
and facing it is cowardice
and writing this is cowardice

—–

for
the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #45
OWN | TURN | SHINE | TREE | STAR

and
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Cowardice

midnight snack and repercussions (20160707)

i slip out of bed
tiptoe to the kitchen
through
midnight house darkness

meatloaf
awaits me
in the fridge

in its own congealed juices
it needs companions
brown bread
mayo and salt

eaten cold
eaten silently
eaten quickly
it settles happily
in the gut

but in that house void of lights
except for charging phones
the loaf delivers
hours of indigestion and
nightmares on chipped, bleeding hooves
until breakfast

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Darkness

proiectus (20160705)

use a plane
the kind without wings

take me apart
one layer at a time

each strata reveals
subsurface fossils

memories, anger, fear
desire trapped in amber

light shines through
bright enough to cast shadows

old bones glow
beneath translucent skin

my insides projected
against the wall

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Layers

the eternal hum (20160622)

everyone tells you
that after this life
there is another life

but no one warns you
that death waits
also for you there

and after that ending
there’s another
paler incarnation

again and again
each life more diluted
than the last
until you can’t tell yourself
apart from the sea of white noise

a revenger follows his hate
knife bloody from one life
to the next
so eager to re-enact he gladly
sheds his flesh and bones
until he and the despised

become one

and there are no more screams
only the emptiness
of the eternal hum

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Empty

finger bones (20160614)

today my hands hurt
and i struggle with the clay
cutting the base free
to mount it on more clay
to raise it up

the finger bones ache
and i think a good use for them
would be a mala necklace

i ignore the pain
in the joints
but feel it while driving home

these little betrayals
of body makes
a little more paunch
a little less hair
a little more nose
a lot more jowl
so many more things to worry about
and the constant threat
of pain in the feet
of pain in the hands
the chest

memento mori
i count these off
on my finger bones
om mani padme hum

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Struggle

starlight and razors (20160605)

i tripped and fell and
split in half

surprised to find that the split
to be smooth and polished

as if it had been there
all along or

as if cut by a stone cutter
wet saw heavy grit polishing wheels

but the inside, the caverns
left in their natural state

filled with glittering jagged
spikes, false stars winking

each one sharp enough
to kill a man

each star promising light
but offering only razors

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Smooth

this summer evening sees no stars (20160603)

this summer evening
sees no stars
set into the night sky

perhaps an eagle took them
on silent wings to line her nest
this summer evening

or the man who cannot shut his eyes
buried them and now he
sees no stars

or rather than theft, is it the rippling
golden expanse of laughter
set into the night sky

——

for
Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #33: Silent cascade

and
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Sky