The object
blank, waiting
an inanimatency
alive in its constancy
A sorrowful joy
Little birth
bloody and raw and loud
Little death
somber and clean and,
quite suddenly, quiet
sparkling with disuse
cluttered with frustration
A kaleidoscopic soul
turning ever inward
spiraling out
in sublime exposure
substantial
this timeless ticking
filling corners
a barren shallow gulf
so…stark
colors flowing
tidal moon
full and rising
radiant
the pulsing emptiness
easing stealthily
round boundaries erected
stare
into an abyss
memory and shadow
white room
a facsimile
wilting flowers
browned teardrops
falling
in the timeless ticking
filling corners
the qualities of silence
extinguished
strange fingers on the flames
And there was
in the end
a shallowness
tingling
in the house
that was a home
there was
in the end
an emptying
memories
defaulted, burned
a waste
there was
in the end
a fragility
a sheerness
of skin
of aged paper
there was
in the end
an absence
a bitterness
alone
strangers
in the house
that was a home
The line of light breaks
‘tween the banks of burdened blue.
The break widens
as the tide of prescience
gathers.
Fibrous and cottony.
Strident singing, screeching, ringing through
the feathered ocean’s greens.
Heat ripens.
Thick
bright red globules
hang.
Decadent and vulgar.
The sickeningly sweet heat gives way
to a weighted stillness.
The twilight tints the air
a fired fuchsia.
There is a coolness wrapped ‘round
each breath of air.
And the trees seem somehow
uprooted,
pagan things in bas-relief.
An angry mob of blackened clouds
rushes roiling pell mell,
gobbling up
the bruised sky,
throwing jagged, glowing spears of crackling
Fire.
BOOM!
The sky is ripped apart,
slammed down in fury.
CRACK!
The spear tears the earth apart.
Sheets of liquid steel
fall.
Petaled flowers beaten
down.
Trees scream and twist in
torment.
Silence.
Sudden.
Alien.
A roaring, reckoning implosion
so LOUD!
the world vibrates on its axis.
Darkness,
substantive and primeval,
brutally crashing down
RIPPING,
MAULING,
CRACKING,
GLASS SHATTERING,
SCREAMING,
GRIPPING
decimation.
Stillness,
abrupt, a quickening.
We stumble through the wreckage,
stunned,
awestruck,
grieving,
…grateful.
‘Twas an imperfect rose
That decided to bloom
In spite of the gloom
And shadow of the garden
She grew in.
‘Twas not the grace of the sun
Nor the gardener’s hand
That decided the sturdy blossom
But refusal to break
For fragility’s sake
In the budding spring of her youth.
‘Twas an imperfect rose
That unfolded, ignored
On a bare and thorny limb
Twas not envy she felt
Toward her lovely kin
Crowded in the sun’s sweet rays
But sigh did she
For the gardener’s sigh
And the pleasure of his gaze.
‘Twas an imperfect rose
Whose petals fell as years
A bruised silken beauty
Shedding wistful tears
For in the autumn of her age
She’d found no need for the gardener’s gaze.
‘Twas an imperfect rose
That ceased to bloom
In the shadow and gloom
Of the garden she’d lived in
Yet it was in the sun’s rays
That she died that day
And in the dying became perfection.
Utter darkness descends
a contagion of screams
quick touch
lighter clicks
toes stubbed
“Where’s the flashlight?”
says the man
“Where’s the phone?”
says the woman
“What happened to my game?”
wails the child
Flashlight bobs
a stream of muted cursing
candles flare
buzz, beep beep
the phone connects
“A balloon hit the substation.”
says the woman
“A balloon.”
says the man
“Will my game come back on?”
wails the child
Utter silence descends
a contagion of sighs
fingers drum
chair scrapes
toes tap
“Might as well go to bed.”
says the man
“She’s not gonna sleep.”
says the woman
“What did you do in the old days?”
asks the child
And off they ran
in the bloated heat
out into the near night
and under forgotten stars
they danced with their shadows
in a field flush with moonlight
and fireflies
As I drive
in the secular silence
Fresh night
glows
pale yellow
in the light
Words of ages
still cling to me
So that this life
seems surreal
Gravel crunching
beneath the weight
Slowly stop
on the cusp
Window lowered
close my eyes
Breathing deep
and am at once
assaulted
by familiar smells
foreign to my present mind
Eyes break wide
a sudden knowing occurs
Car door opens
Annoyed buzz
burst of light
push, click
silence
step out
Book in hand
I turn
and walk
gravel to grass
grass to field
and stop
on the edge
of an ancient darkness
I look back
at the distance I’ve come
Burdens fall
with muted thuds
I slip into the forest
a thing apart
a being connected.
