Monthly Archives: September 2015

eye knit

I fell upon the coldest stone,
And found myself in a dreaming-world.
Where the stars were holes in a gaping maw,
And the moon was a flag unfurled.

I stumbled into a river of thought,
And the current dragged away my dreams.
While the cat-bears prowled on an endless shore,
My eyes came apart at the seams.

My vision blacked and the moon came back,
From its holiday in the sky.
And even though I cannot sew,
I frantically searched for my eyes.

Grow up

The weirdest part of it all is the massively personal nature of growing up. Every human being in the history of the planet has met that moment in life where they paused and thought, terrified, about the future rushing so dangerously toward them. And every human has realized in an instant how terribly near adulthood had grown, and how temporary everything really is. How insignificant. And despite the frequency of these soul-shattering, intensely huge moments; despite this, every single time a child’s heart breaks, to be replaced by the heart of an adult, it feels like the first time. The only time. Every transitioning human believes for a moment that their journey has been the only journey, that this moment is unique to them and them alone; that they, somehow, are different in their jarring realization of reality. And in a way, they are right, despite the likenesses of every other terrified teen that has gone before. Now, for the current petrified youth, it’s just a question of growing up in such a way that the growing is toward the light; and taking that stone cold terror and making it something good and productive for the world to hold onto after our wisp-of-smoke lives are over. 

Burning free

I cannot speak for the cache of blood

Behind my throat and voice 

I cannot breathe for the hissing flood

Of death within my flesh. 
I am covered now in slate, and bitterness, and sin

I rip with ragged nails at all the ways I’m imprisoned

Ice chips, with frost, have covered all

The life I used to live. 

Please set me free with fire; I

Must bleed

Where now I petrify. 

Soulsick

I ache inside by solemn knives

With wondering of tragedy;

Where does a woman, lonely, bide

As her killer stalks a block behind?
Where, distraught, do orphans, fraught

With dangers congregate?

To judge and buy or steal and lie

Just for a chance at life’s embrace?
Why, wicked, do the people live

And prosper; untouched, fine?

Why, righteous, do the prayers die

While Death our children kiss?
Why, evil has our throats bleeding

And somewhere, we’ve all given up

Why do we cry when eyes are dry

And laugh through rivers of blood?
Redeem us once again, o Light

And let us not despair. 

synonyms

They say it’s ‘drapetomania’
I call it discontent.
I’ve let ‘wanderlust’ invade
With its courteous malintent.

Sometimes it’s ‘lypophrenia’
With its curious shadowy form;
And disease causes ‘dysania’
(Why can’t I make it out the door?)

Whatever word you call it,
‘Sadness’ works in its place.
Someday I aim to feel happiness instead,
Or ‘joy’- or ‘passion’- or ‘grace’.