The River And I

The river and I go side by side
It runs, though I, content to walk
Am in no rush, though tossed about
And ever turbulent, no doubt
But less intentional in stride

The river and I, we both do long
To find the sea–the open deep
I feel my path will longer be
For I am less at liberty
To chase the places I belong

The river and I have much to share
The downward path we both pursue
I feel I fall but never rise
And dashed upon these rapids white
The fate I find is rarely fair

The river has more voice than I
It has no fear to speak its mind
It gladly tears the earth apart
While on its path with steady heart
It makes no stops and forms no ties

The river has more force than I
To cut away at standing stone
Its lonely goal by soul inspired
It runs always and never tires
With naught a thought to quit or die

The river knows not how it moves
Nor does it out of malice roll
It merely seeks its distant love
Relentlessly at every ebb
And presses in, around, and through

The river and I, we both know well
The destination of our call
We know which way we need to go
Though how to turn we may not know
And what may come we cannot tell

The river and I, though without words
Walk side by side along the bank
I long to run as does this friend
But how I fall and how I bend
Has broken me in shattered thirds

The river and I have parted ways
It perseveres while I digress
Returning to my former lot
A life, a day, a time forgot
With sentences I long to say

The river and I will both go far
Adapting to our circumstance
Perhaps, since I am not allowed
The river will reach you somehow
In freedom on some distant shore

Midair

The bullet pierced the breast in flight
In plummet, life has traded light
For darkness as the feathers fall
It never touched the ground at all
But somewhere on the journey down
Relinquished fate and slipped away

‘Tis better to be killed midair
Than caged upon the ground in bars
Or traded for the songs you sing
Without the use of heart or wing
I would much rather die in love
Than live as though it’s not enough

Painted Vessel of Passage

Skin, oh the falsities stretched over flesh
As a smile, or a laugh, or a wish
Twisted in foreign hieroglyphics
Subtle nuances of portrayal
With which we deftly parry
The thrust of probing questions
Or misguided salutations
But skin is not what I am
And this boxcar bears no resemblance to the passenger within
Merely a painted vessel of passage
Oft’ the canvas of a graffiti made to fade
A forest, blocked by trees
Or, perhaps, a tale that no one would believe
That is us
That is me
Beneath

Set In Stone

Set in stone
Like the letters overhead
When my sleep becomes my rest
Lay a flower on my chest

When I’m gone
And the earth becomes my bed
I have nothing to regret
I have lived and loved and left

Maybe Dragons Are Misunderstood

Just because you’re hard to kill
Doesn’t always make you tough
Just because you never smile
Doesn’t mean you never dream
Just because you’re breathing fire
Doesn’t mean you cannot love
Just because you’re different
Doesn’t mean you’re dangerous

What if all the dragons
Are just brokenhearted fairy tales
What if all the monsters
Are just souls without a home
What if all the blood we spill
Is digging our way down to hell
What if everybody
Didn’t have to be alone

Just because they don’t believe
Doesn’t always mean you’re wrong
Just because they cannot see
Doesn’t mean there’s nothing there
Just because you’re far away
Doesn’t mean you don’t belong
Just because my skin is thick
Doesn’t mean that I don’t care

What if all the villains
Are the heroes no one understood
What if all the peasants
Are just kings without a throne
What if you and I were never
Scripted to be bad or good
What if everybody
Didn’t have to be alone

Stratus Arrested

Stratus arrested
We escort the vestige
Of dusk and deliverance
Over the threshold of
Coverless endings
A yarn of our spinning
In blood we invested
And stratus arrested

My Muse Is Gone

My muse has gone
Alone, I cradle souvenirs
Her phantom dances in the songs
That haunt my ever-waking dreams
Against the vacant beckoning
I hold a tired candle light
A vigil of my sanity
For memories
Of fantasies
And better things

My muse has gone
And, in the absence of my tears
The shadows, in a desperate throng
Are clinging tight beneath my eyes
I harbor them–my dark disguise
A mask across my empty face
Expressionless
Impressions of
This cold embrace

Conjure You

Lonely, I conjure you
But conjure you is all that I can do
Spells with which I summon you
Are whispers that this empty night rebukes

Lonely, I conjure you
A figure woven of the finest air
Ghosts and stolen residue
Afoot upon the vagrant shards of moon

Lonely, I call for you
In saline brews of misbegotten eyes
Wrung from hollow avenues
Of brokenhearted alabaster truth

Lonely, I conjure you
But conjure you is all that I can do
Phantasms and dreams of you
Are dancing slowly in this burning room

Too Soon

Press your fingers on the wound
We can’t
We can’t allow the blood
To leak away–this is too soon
A love no memory can fill

Breathe again–you cannot stop
I want
I need your eyes to move
Do not succumb collapse and swoon
These gashes surely have to heal

Take my hand–you must respond
I won’t
I cannot leave you now
If only just an utterance
Bestow a sound upon my ears

Look within these pleading eyes
We were
We are the stronger sort
No matter how our heart is hurt
The pain reminds us it is there

Oh, agony has pricked
Into the depths of what I hoped
But still the battle rages deep
Beneath the skin of my desire

Oh, the beauty we inflict
Upon a world that never knew
Has been distorted into blame
To feed the embers of our fire

Oh, you know I’d give the last
Of every breath I’ve yet to take
To pull you safely from the fray
Into the circle of my heart

Oh, you cannot slip away
Beneath the torrent of this pain
There is so much for which to stay
And I am not retreating yet

The Last Tide (Audio)

In place of a poem today, I decided to upload an electronic instrumental piece I recorded some time ago. I have never shared audio, so I do hope this post works properly.

At the prompting of Cat Forsley I set up a SoundCloud account to share some audio with you. In the future I intend to post more; perhaps with spoken word included. For now, I hope this will be some consolation in place of a poem. 

This belongs to ANR

 

-Vampire Weather

Of Those Who Were

Walls–they tell of those who were
The visage, faded, once was clear
Oh where have you then disappeared?

Into the night? Across the sea?
Or do those jaded memories
Still haunt your halls, as they do me?

Foregone–the night so cleverly
With darkness swallows every tear
A soundless cry on soundless ears

But walls–they loath forgetfulness
And not as I do they so turn
Their stories are not fast unlearned

In somber unrelenting tones
A chorus of distress is sung
For spirits absent far too long

T’would be such bliss to quell their taunt
But as I seek I find you not
And feel at last I am forgot

Unaware

Come awake
You pretty little star
Surrogate
My angel, unaware
Speak to me
In languages of stare

Come alive
You precious little ward
To protect
My sentimental heart
Dream of me
In reoccurring parts

Come away
You unassuming saint
Separate
The channels of desire
Be with me
Awaiting by the fire

Come inside
You interwoven soul
Resurrect
In deepening resolve
Evermore
A paragon of love

Dancing In Darkened Chambers

The mist has gathered here tonight
Behind the eyes of truth and lies
As we begin this careful dance
Around the lines we cannot cross

Dancing in these darkened chambers
To the cries of dying smiles
Fancying ourselves as artists

Dancing in these darkened chambers
Into this apocalypse
Fancying ourselves as heartless

The crowd has gathered here tonight
The mob of things we should have said
They mock these fallen silhouettes
That steal the heat beneath my bed

Dancing in these darkened chambers
Step by step in perfect time
Fancying ourselves as precious

Dancing in these darkened chambers
Underneath eternity
Fancying ourselves as deathless

Sometimes You Can See…

It isn’t all that often, but sometimes
You can see love
In tiny pinholes
Bleeding through a ebon sky in variable densities
Light
Ignited
Ancient
Caravanning the distance in waves
Predating the cracks in our fragile hearts
Washing upon celestial shores in swaths we call constellations
But we never really knew them
These eyes in the heaven are to faces unblinking
A glance by chance or divine
Falling across time
Onto a serendipitous second in which elements align
Providing oxygen to my tired mind down here
It isn’t very often, but sometimes
You can see God
Burnt through in the autumn hues of dying dreams
Shaken and piled up for sweeping
Where today’s decomposition becomes tomorrow’s fuel
To wake life where death stirs
Like children coming forth from sleep
It isn’t often, but sometimes
I think that centuries may just be unwitting catalysts
Love, launched long before the orbits breathed a full rotation
Locked in motion
Ancient beyond recognition
Struck here tonight because it was the only place it could go
And we are nothing new
Me and you
Just tiny allegories of immortality
Caught tightly
Spun lightly
And bundled up in woven threads of something
We did not create
Embodiments of unity even the stars do not comprehend
While bending arms of light to touch us
These broken compositions
These stolen notes
We have written in stone over the face of what we know
Are our epitaph
That
We love
And it comes with no permissions
Branded deep within a sky that casts no shadow, but is its own reason why
And so am I
So I decide
That if the sky makes no apology for light
Despite the blind eyes we bear
And if the stars believe the distance here is worth the weight of infinity
And if the pain of decomposing becomes the beauty of tomorrow’s bloom
Then I love you
And it must have been true
Before they wrote the first line of the first word
Or spoke of things like this
It isn’t often, but sometimes
The world moves
For small things
And life springs
For cracked dreams
Under the ancient eyes
In this ebon sky
Where, it isn’t often, but sometimes
You can see love

Eponym

Are we the embodiment–conflicted fictive eponym
Of amorism, tainted–like a monolith for martyrdom
Scandalizing passion with our profligated fashion
Disassociating servitude from actual attraction

Are we the antithesis–the artificial flavoring
Of catalogue compliance–like iconoclastic bravery
Subterfuge for living with superfluous misgivings
In redundant disapproval our dissident divisions

(forgive me for being away so long. I have been quite sick lately and I promise to make time to visit my blogs more now that I am in recovery mode)

5 After Midnight

The pixie dust
Long since swept up
Has left only a fading glow
Upon the harsh wooden floor
And I am here
Dangling between wand
And life
How long will I
Be caught between
Being the coachman and the dog
How long will I
Be snagged in thinking
The taste of these enchantments
Is bitter in the end
A hollow sound
Of fairy games
And riven souls

Elastic, Resilient

Elastic
Resilient
I stretch and bend but never break

I’m plastic
And brilliant
Invented for the worst mistakes

A perfect combination of
The hardest spine and weakest heart
Surviving hate to die of love
While holding things that fall apart

Afflicted by the purest cures
Astounded by the most mundane
Confused by things I know are sure
An innocent deserving blame

The Ink Is You

The ink is you
The blood, the love
The pain dipped in
Beneath my skin
The ink is you
Indelible
And I approve
Of every line
The ink is you
The brand I wear
Reminding me
Of all we are
The ink is you
Unfaded mark
My friend, my dear
My lovely scar

Adore

Streetlights play with shadows as pedestrians stroll under
Flickers stroke your hair and hover gently on the strands
I could watch for hours as the world keeps moving onward
Placidly content to hold my universe in hand

Storefronts sell their fancies catching glances from the children
Snowflakes grace the fabric of your sweater as we stroll
Hands entwined so I can keep you safely near me always
Hats and furs like armor in our fight to thwart the cold

Have I ever told you
How much I adore you
How much I am warmed to know that you care
Have I ever mentioned
You have my attention
I’m pleasantly caught in the heat of your stare

Crystals form in corners of the windows through the city
Taxis run like blood cells through the arteries of town
All the decorations and the lights aren’t half as pretty
As the silhouette you cast like magic on the ground

All the presents pale beside the gift of being with you
All the vendors fail to place a price upon your love
Every time you smile I think the moon gets slightly larger
Glowing like a dream and you are what i’m dreaming of

Have I ever told you
How much I adore you
How I’d stop the world if it was what I had to do

Have I ever mentioned
You have my full attention
Totally transfixed and wanting nothing else but you

Not A Traffic Light

Traffic lights have such an easy job
Blinking life away, oblivious
To shattered glass and acts of tragedy
Or signs of cardboard begging charity
Who am I to stand aghast at life
Twisted metal spilling in the streets
And ask the reasons why it all should be
When I could wait in quiet apathy
But I am not a blinking traffic light
I am not a lifeless entity
Conscious to the wreckage we create
I am not content to sit and wait
We have felt the force of passing forms
Ripping through the course of our intent
I can taste the spillage of our hearts
I inhale the putrid bitter scent
Burnt and broken heaps that once were love
Scattered on the landscape of desire
Empty vessels gutted in the dark
Hope that we abandoned to the fire
Sometimes I would like to be machine
Incapable of tears for what I know
But I am not a traffic light that blinks
I cannot tell when to stop or go