Murder

You kill me with sentence

Suspend me with abuse

Your hands become the death machine

Surely god is dead

You find me

And undo me

Call me lie

Send me die

In my memory

We live

In yours

we are but death

I linger still

Despite your hate

I cannot find you

In the dark

Even Jocasta

Could not unearth

The dark

You call it game

I am a pawn

 

Dialogue is the death

Of two

Descent to hell

The company

Death is the dialogue

Of two

The past

You always said

The past is just the past

You needed to live now

I always said the past is not the past

I needed to live to love

You always read my words

Those past

As if they were the then

I always spoke and wrote

Those words

As if they were

The constant

The sacrosanct

You read

Summary execution

I read

consummation

 

longing in poems

is the summary

of words

and sentiment

and the array

of verbiage

in an unnatural

line

or sometimes

it is simply

you inverse

Spirit 

Until now

The tongues

Had ceased

Their babel names

Unsolicited

Had been silence

Too soon the salt

Had felled the lot

The faces blunt

In retrospect

Beneath their gloom

Had fallen stom

While silence

Dreams its dreams

The gods are still

 

But now

The languages

Redeem the dark

Becoming breath

And sympathy

Like an angel

Dispatched to need

Becomes the voice

Of the spirit

Doubt makes room

For credulity

 

Listen but

For rain

 

 

Winsome  

Like some insistent sound

The metaphor repeated

Echoing until it stopped

In his own orbit

 

Its rhythm an African beat

Against his defeated anima

Lurching from against

To again

 

He loved to watch

To dedicate eyes

To the depths

To the idio forms

 

Knowing sanctity

And sacrifice

His sainted mirth

Now demon murk

Fell again

Against a gain

He closed eyes

And then his own

And dreamt of death

Instead

 

Instead of the rain

Let this soon to be

Become the nearly

Thereupon the begin

 

Then will all suns

Cease to heat

The horsemen four

Bequeath their end

Posterity

 

Angels rest beneath

Their aching wings

The hoping of them

Become the anticipation

 

To lie in state

Against the arcs

Of gestalts

And perfection

Instead

Of

this

Today the sun

Faint I heard
The music, it
Did random
Upon me
Sing of this
Like a word
Once I spoke
Did I knot
Fill this sign
For we do
Find it in
The instances
Remonstrances
Indelible and now
Intuit this of
You and me
In sun

Inside

I welcome your smile
And need your day
To swim with us
To another
I want the will
Of yours to bend
To seize another
Foregone day
The day we leapt
Among the graces
And the tenderness
Of our flesh
I won’t begone
For here am i
To will this day
To will another
And will to you
Incidentally I watch
You breathe and will
But love

Ophelia

Under a dread knot

Petalled and finite

She lay against antipathy

Ruby lips sworn to silence

Like tenderness undone

Being had become this

An underdone sentiment

Finally her cry had sounded

Bound by the limits

Of a voice constricted

For being

She had said

Now swooning on blue

The still silent song

Became another buoyant

Sound beyond the black

I bend here unlike her

In mere living

And look upon the wind

And look upon the blue

For Ophelia I am black

Safety of not

Bundled up
In small wreaths
Was the wound
Sentencing the now
To a memory bank
It’s shallow and furtive
Wending
Did blood stop
But earlier
Its spotted sin
Had fouled the cloths
And now they red
Like the imbecile eyes
Of a dead warrior
Lay still untended
By nurse or comfort
Moaning bequeathed
Its anthem to them
Those celibate souls
Who watched in fear
Unable to redeem
Unable even to aknowledge
Sin has a way
Of ending even its very ness
Now here under moon
And hopes dearth
He lay untouched
Solemn as the clay
And dirty as its birth
Unclad by spirit
And new birth
Simply a tumbled man
Without his light

solemn

salem is a name
that means times two
once it was a place
where kings slept
where they ruled
another where lives were broke
when they declared
the devil loose

here were sundry words
unbecoming, unwilling
here mocking sums
and sexual suns
nonentities

solemn vows
undone
with mere words
and salem
has salem become

Black

I missed a dove
It fell somewhere
Besides me
Altering its course
And fallen
It became
A moment
Flimsy and faint
Beating wings
As if flight
Was an oversensitivity
I held its tremulous
Waking faults
And soothed it
And smothered it
And its fallen way
Became a memory
To sow
Sad this black