exiled,
denamed, unknown,
no longer in the mind
of god, re: obliterated,
a void,
a spanse,
defaced, unlabeled, unmasked, peeled
completely down to the
very center
peel where
non
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Tag Archives: #mirrorcinquain
Spine
To feel
Threaded-up by
Gut and needle. To chew
Bitter-root like a Tylenol.
Organs
Failing,
And a memory too soft
For sharp telling-of-tales.
To feel old, but
Want more
Small Signs
Couldn’t
I foresee this
Unwanted possession
Of a colossus? Alas, the
Small signs
Never
Connected from one to other:
The smoke, nor the lightning,
Nor the silence,
Nor dreams
god’s brain
lacks a reward
center: it moves over
the waters, numbering without
counting.
god’s brain
lacks its reward center and clicks
dispassionately past
The Miracle.
god’s brain
sleep-watches
and in morning
walks passionately past
as an interdimensional
monad,
and snail
shell hurricanes faze not the brain
of humble almighty
mister god man
who wants
nothing
Time stood
Trembling: little
Insomniac, thunder
Ing eyes still slumbering like tithes
On a
Seatide
Sand coins scattering – stressed out of
The pockets of Triton
Astoundments: nine
Thousand
dark hangs
like chandeliers
unlit, still as a stare,
cased in the pitch of this moment
dark grows
geodes
never-glitter in the pitch black
helplessness of the dark
(((try as light might)))
dark rule
banished
from ziggurats
of crystalline purpose
the wanderer in anaphase
juxta
poses
atlas against constellations
in hourglass desert
(bad sand waiting)
but: lost
Dark cherub
Plucking her goat skin
Harp strings in time signatures
Banned before Day One plans to maintain
Mandorla:
Plays for play,
Scales spiteful notes: a culling lullsound
(Here falls one sleepy pilgrim):
Plays tones eternal,
Fingers prick
Praying
Quick. My specter
Limps like one tough goat, goes
Beside me in His evening heat:
“Not yet
Not yet”
Then in the cool of His morning
I Am, my oldest ghost,
Acquiesces,
Says yeah
⨀ 