Prohibition


I declare a prohibition, to
ban the way we contest change,
dry up currently whetted appetites
that hunger for war, conflicting,
pedestrian ideas and ideals
promoting each other’s assumed lesser.

Backlash burns silently
smoldering, tears blind those
already living without sight, mixing
tears mix with the heat of untouched friction of words
rubbing-together, concocting a chemical cleanse
aggravating all the senses.

Connection


Static overtones provide cacophonous shelter  for your reason, each time I would dial in your melody; yet I, eventually drop the phone just so I can watch it mimic your slipping away, hoping that gravity would halt and you would stay near me relative to the same way you once did, and only my phone survived unbroken from that titan fall.

Uninhibited Waters


Uninhibited waters rise
separating my consciousness
throwing disarray into my thoughts
as they warp, not dissimilar
to the driftwood floating in
unison, reverberating up and
down as my exhaled breath
beats back into my face
with added salt ready to
cauterize future wounds
effectively, passively scaring myself.

Move


I sit now, trembling
in perfect stillness with
an undesirable ache to
move but I fear motion.

A cold shiver rattles
my brain as my thoughts begin
to make sense of my bodies
petrified state for I am guilty.

I plead my case to no one by
doing nothing, and I shall now
pay for my crime as a bystander
through continuing to look.

Unable to help, even when, I began to see
your lips quiver redefining what it means, to move.

Match


One fluid motion
tiny Promethean gift
a small beginning.

Unwanted Zephyr’s
flickering wisps in hot air
survives, with more might.
Yet then, falls sparkling
end and start, inflamed souls rise
hand too, nothing is safe.
Quickly out of hand
rising…falling…progress
onto double string.
Lighting dark faces
glowing, brightly, lou of love;
pale shadows cast black.
Irrational fire
decidedly lonesome waste
war has no winners.

Social Disease


At that moment, your words cut
like a blunt knife slowly
scraping at my throat until I
bled out verbally,
leaving nothing left inside
but the flecks of rust
that broke from that
same weathered knife
infecting me, ever deeper
with a social disease
incurable by medicine and
only time will tell if I ever recover.