moon shadow

i have lived many lives with
a hole in my heart, once
a child, then a
saint, soon a traitor
always fumbling for
want of home

i push my hand into my
chest and feel an
open cavity, ribs and
sternum an empty cage
where it once kept a soul

and my heart beats dimly
as if the flesh were
mournful; my heart sounds
a cheap, dull drum, retired
from constant banging, weathered
worn and disused


sit near open windows in
the shadow of the moon
and fade as a ghost

when Jesus resurrected, he
was not new, bore the
holes in his body, summoned
Thomas to flesh to hold and to
prod with a tremble

when I resurrected, I
was not new, wore the
scars on my body like
stitches of story, echoed the
anguish of bones as
marks on the skin

Christ, feel the wound in my side, I
fear I am still bleeding


9/15/17

The Heart-heavy

Like a wet cloth over
The heart, heavy
Feel it in the marrow of the
Bones, itching in the muscles but a
Tired. Seems a hanging of the
Head like the spine was removed
But, move like quake lines of the earth
Hidden but hungry and
Stretching empty and full across
Foreign expanse

Bruise a layer beneath
the skin, I am not purple or blue but
Inside I am a sea of endless contusing
Concussed in the brain: i am nothing
Sign the cross from forehead to shoulder, cross
Your neck with a fist, hands closed to
Mimic the knot in your throat from
which you fasten a noose

Of dust I am and to dust I shall return.


9/20/17

How can they love
you, funny face, so
clumsy with words, clumsier
still with heart, always
spilling about like a
river with no bed, rough and
cussing about its edges, but
how can a river have edges when
it yet roars and trembles in
every direction, shapeless as the
space you try to call home.

but there are no boundaries
to trace the lines of feeling
safe, a place to
sleep and be whole

How can they love a broken,
how could they love you


9/21/17

lonely stung like a
hornet's nest, an
unexpected something while
wandering the mess

lonely singed the flesh like
candle wax, winced from
the sensation of burning

lonely lost its voice
calling for companions, but
lonely is still lost while it
meanders endlessly

lonely is a loss, feels like
an ever-deepening hole in the body
sink the darkening bruise, drop skin
in a blaze of swelling


9/15/17

paper cuts

i kept your love folded as a
letter in my heart
i felt the edges creased with the
warmth of your wrist,
traced the ink with my finger
right before i let the charred bits
fly from my palm to a breeze

my heart holds both a furnace and a grave
where i buried you with flames


if i said i miss you, what does that make me?

I'm still angry at you. but I still love you
somewhere in my heart.



k.e.
if you see this, tell me.

Still
Blare a song and a story
They hear me I
Thump across the quarry of
Lost ships
graveyard of stars left a
Trench of old coughing energy
Tired balls of light coiled up in a
chest like unused yarn
Stepped across creaking wooden floors
Groaning corridor of a hoarder, hoarse
trees summoning a history of wounded
falling. Thick fruits of withered seeds, how
did you grow so full, ask the moon a
question only to be denied by the clouds,
loud living only sounded as a rasping drum
but echoes up and down the body. Cavern
of spirits dance the paintings on rock,
sleeping the solstice yet stepping from sky
to stone. Turn home and alone
Again
Turn home and alone

˚˚d1r£çt1øns

endless nomad of the stars
traversing a desert of dark,
keep your compass on north upon
the scores of light
///20 lightyears ahead -->
constellation trail
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spacedrift

amnesiac ache
i wish to have died sooner
in a life i cannot yet
remember

as if
as if

...

a pause
silence crystalizing
a fractal of galaxies sad yet
blooming

spinning shards of memory
wrapped around the nebulas like
an unfolded blanket
i am an unmade bed, patched
with dark and light yet
filled with holes that leak
my inner fabric

a far off home?
i cannot see

I count the cost of
living
Barter my many corners of
existing
Christ calling on the
forsaken to forsake but
the cross of flesh was
bruised

In the twilight, I am blue mixed with
blood
In the night I am a silver swollen sadness

I sleep sound in the grace of
empty, both a hollow feel and
reign-less steering
Coarse around the edges like a
lump on a potter's wheel,
except I am folding like a landslide
slipping into myself as I crumble

Cast your stones among the
lessers, leprosy of the mind
limbs loose and lesion'd
As a leech you
seek your love from the
chronic lonely

Liken the lowly
a mirror of downward glances
glass that breaks then
fractures the image
inhuman but feeling