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The Prophet I am destitute and poor, so ragged, well weathered and wear my dirt to the bone. I am dusty of heart and bloodless, and these stories are etched in my eyes, oh, they are beautiful scars. But, be cautious graceful pilgrim, if you look into me you will know everything. My eternity will blind you. Take comfort in my shadow and never fear my back, for I am the Prophet. Follow me, walk beside me, lead me, but don't read my wounds, these stories are only for the telling. __________ Gypsy city In Rome, big city of gypsy dreams, I saw a dark-haired girl, a brisk darting sparrow on the concrete, two paces behind her I avoided the cracks in the sidewalk, skinny and needy, she turned and frowned at me two paces in front, but, I couldn’t avoid the cracks in her face, so the city inhaled that long-haired girl with the young body and old face. __________ North At the edge of the sugar cane field the white noise of cicadas suffocated the air, their clatter pushed through my skin by humidity; it was osmosis of sound. A crow loitered, smoking with his leather-clad mates glaring, accusing me for his teen angst, his wire was thread-bare; somehow this was my fault. The edge of the cane field was heavy from the mud the sky threw down, but the clouds were still dirty; my boots protested at the weight of the rain. And I smiled at the familiarity of the colour of the land as it sighed, it stories can’t be told with words; but my heart knew them all anyway. __________ 7.23am As I came close to you and held you to my breast I could feel the stubble of your long night coarse against my cheek, the tears in your eyes made your nose drip, but you didn't cry, you never do, you just wiped the back of your hand across your face. Comforting you with my awkward embrace your eyes gave me answers to questions I didn’t ask, so we hugged and felt alone together, anxious at the reality of now, excited by the idea of hope. __________ Heartbeat The radiant sun which lies tethered within your chest softly warms my cheek as I lay my head against the comfort of your presence. __________ Rest your weary body Rest your weary body flesh so battle fatigued, heart-worn and hungry, lay down within yourself and dream between the lines. Hold your tempered tongue, words so prickly, the tangy aftertaste rinsed with a prayer washing the fermented unsaid away. Be calm, be settled and rest your weary body, no thoughts to awaken you except the peace dancing with joy in your breast pocket |
Nocturnal (Insomnia) You eat at my sleep hanging like a giant yellow amphetamine, a spotlight on my mind as a bright idea in full bloom, you devour the dark, tattering its edges, burning the night away from me until day frays over the horizon. 'Bastard moon, thief of the nothing, you blister my dreams and they fester unsent into the night,' in the light of day they lay heavy behind my swollen eyes, restless, infected, and my dreams eat me while the moon eats my sleep. __________ I broke my shadow I broke my shadow; it cracked and fell from the sidewalk when I questioned its purpose and it left a thousand papercuts on my knees; so I bled a prayer into the sunlight that flooded the open wound in the earth, and hummed, “Who am I without my anti-me?”; then slowly buried it without an epitaph. __________ Paris 1883 The coffee table was art with its linoleum top and overlapping stains; the maison its depot a magnetic place of mourning conversations over absinthe; louche swilled with Marxist ideologies of unsophisticated dogs relegating the bourgeoisie beneath their bohemian boot-heels. __________ Rusty shadow The rainbow shadow of youth is pretty, inchoate, dancing with the halo. But, the circular strobe is an aging slipknot sliding its thorny clasp around the crown, pinching salty sins from eyes— blood tears dirt-soaked —until an age rusted shadow noisily sows a corrugated trail of speckled truth and heavy holes. Sin-shine boys holler from street corners for those wealthy enough to have others spit on their vanity and scrape and polish their russet while— thorns infect deeper —and their rusty shadow buffs to a thin veneer of shiny, translucent sin. __________ Hugs I came to you for comfort, to feel reassured, you had no answers and hugged me, the lethargy of reality bites hard you said, it makes you sleep past noon and wake with a headache, you'll be thirsty in the early afternoon and want a hamburger for breakfast, you hugged me again and told me there are no answers, but my heart felt comforted any way. __________ Skip This beat inside me has changed, my heart's rhythm runs at a stranger's pace, knocking within my bones, tapping a coded cadence to the caged life beside it. |