Tagged: soul

Postmortem, Post modern

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I was once buried

in the cemetery at the top of the hill

but erosion has wiped away fallen comrades,

and through the general disintegration of time

Neither I, nor my headstone is worthy

of my Terra sanctuary.

They gathered around my grave

a site of Carnival, the beers passed around the tombstone.

Old friends pay their respect by day,

and the teens know how to tango

in the early morning

dancing from headstone to headstone

sunrise spotlight on macabre stage.

Now even the vandals don’t come around anymore.

The house cat, bronze iris and black pawed,

traces it’s way around my burying ground

The senorita, margarita in painted face,

hold my holiest of days

and the children tire of my wandering fingers

who knew the body

would be the vehicle

ensnared and tangled

caught in eternal flame

to imprison their manifestation

to imprison the soul.

Though I was never baptized I have known the ceilings of heaven

though I’ve committed no great sin

I know the delusions of hell

They don’t tell you that it’s in the air

just under our noses

where we couldn’t possibly have seen it

 we couldn’t have guessed

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Finding Blood in the Wreckage

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 He is a creation of mine

A figurative shit

I forced onto the page

Blowing a gasket

How much pleasure does it take

Before it isn’t about love anymore?

How man slits before the wrists

Are no longer clenching an escape rout?

There is a green fog

Fallen through the tree canopies

Into the indignant

Hazed mind

I want the music

Mindset, words

That makes stone walls crack

That makes men feel.

More Than Flesh

stock-photo-light-mediation-on-water-299497922Tripping over protruding root

Mother’s passive aggressive revenge

Broken branches like compound fractures

The hurricanes scream with

Cracking evergreens, aspens

Creasing trees and cannon balling ship masts

Falling soldiers, stiff with rigor mortis

Sabers of lightning

And sparking gunfire

Kamikaze forestry

Dry cracking birches

Like snapping muzzle fire

Squatting in the green

Burning down to the filter

Deep in meditation

What does it mean

To penetrate deeper than flesh;

To be further connected with the soul

Ram Dass,

You hit the flint

But they’re the ones

To burn down the town