BLISS
The darkness sought is often seen
by angels dying with empty wings
and gray men sitting beside transistor radios
listening to words of wisdom
from falling gods.
If the cage were opened
Would it run free
Or sit in the corner
Unsure how to
Leave
Don't look
Nothing will come of it
The key can not be found
Your book is my pillow
His shroud, the sheet
I kneel on while
We pray
we wake up in the afternoon
you head for the patio
I stand by the door
watching as you stand there
spent from the time we spent
together
I bring you my shirt (it was closest)
you refuse
I ask if you want one of your own
you say what's the use
I'm not as comfortable
not just from the cold
so I wear the shirt brought for you
damn, you make me feel old
you ask where we should go for dinner
I say it doesn't matter to me
you get upset, I ask what's wrong
you ask why nothing matters to me
I answer, Mario's
One token
Round and gold
Sits alone in my pocket
Envious of the silver
Together and constantly changing
is there anything more
disparaging
than two hearts that come close to beating
together
only to find that the slight lapse in
Synchronicity
will forever drive those hearts
apart
like opposing poles of magnets
magnetism
is what keeps the universe
together
and what pushes it further away
I was born again Tonight;
collecting myself from the scattered remains
of Yesterday to fly like Icarus
into the Sun.
You are the Sun and the Birds
of Paradise on which Love feeds.
In my grandfather's
White coveralls
On a weather-cracked
Wooden ladder
Behind a wall of
Rough green nature
Slowly, I erase
Lines with lines
You glide back into the party,
head and walk in step with the beat,
feet starting the slow flow through
groups of fugitives from reality.
Every wall pulsates with pleasure,
plays host to splayed light
that flows from glowing lines in space
like a Spirograph given life.
Each face displays a feeling,
a visible expression of the sound
that surrounds the floor,
stirred by the whirl of fabric.
I catch your eye through the mist
of Vick's that seeps through my skin
and grin to show I feel a chance
to steal a blissful touch of lips.
My ice-filled hand dances to your neck,
placing a liquid path from the small
of your back up the spine. Your hands
rub mine, take the cold, but leave the wet.
We kiss and embrace, when the set ends
you touch my face and say "I remember
the name of every track Venom played,
but I can't seem to recall yours."
Twisted strands of
whispy streams
lift remains of
tired dreams
which were once of
great importance
now remnants of
life it shortens.
