Tag Archives: #pain

BLACK CLOUD

The same black cloud that rested over the field the morning after the mower put out the haystack floated over the tops of the silver-trees on the edges of the rose-garden. Through the silver-trees it turned slowly, lowering itself to the ground; and, coming to rest, settled again on the rose-bush, and raised itself high into the air to sniff the atmosphere. I should perhaps seem to be speaking about two roses; but they are not. The two roses I have in mind are of the same kind, but not to be compared. The one is a white rose that came out of a grey-green pot that lay for seven years in a drawer, which probably no one noticed or cared about. Its title is new, unknown, to many, and cruel; and its smell is not the smell of any known rose, nor of any olfactory attraction.

The other is a tall, straight, dark-red rose with a peculiar odor; but which is still admired by young men for its beauty, and in the old age of some is planted in the centre of their friendship gardens as a memorial of a lost love. Both are rare, and will always be rare; but the dark-red rose of the shadow of its twin is a seedling of an old rose, and nothing of its own. It stands tall, straight, and, in old age, very angular in the clover-field, in the darkness of its own cottage garden. Though it has lost all its fragrance, and every leaf of its branches is a stark white, it can still present a pair of great dark, shadowy leaves to a tender, young heart, whose troubles it used to inspire with its peculiar sweet perfume. That is its own, and it can never gain its other title.

It is a rose which grows alone, with one thing its sole delight:–the memory of a lover.

Next morning, in the garden, after breakfast, and after I had written a letter which I had forgotten to write the night before, I stepped back from the garden-wall, and looked over it, with its rose-garden lying before me.

The same, overhung, dull light as had filled it the night before lay thick upon the field, and sank, in the distance, through the silver-trees into the water of the stream. I could not see the water, or the island, but I knew that there would be no change. The earth and air were as heavy and thick as before; and there was no desire or intent to move or to stir; the nature of things had not altered.

The same cloud lay over the field and the island, and seemed to pass with the shadow, in the nearer atmosphere, over the path and over the garden wall, as it had before. I could hear nothing of human life; only I knew, all the same, that people walked in the distant streets of the town to and fro; the hollow claps of the shoes, the speaking, snatches of words, the idle voices of men and women at their workplaces–all these had ceased to catch my ear, and the silence that they engendered closed upon me; and I went back again to the only object which my eyes could make out in the darkness. The night before I had noted the footprints of the man who had cut the hay from the field the day before. He had put them carefully in a nameless direction, in the hope that it would be the path of the threshing-machine. I saw that he had only tried to follow the track that he had made; and, instead of going round the field, he had gone straight across it. That was all!

:: 11.08.2020 ::


DYING & HUNGRY

I

Not a firefly but equal
to a glyph and less or more
as light within a cage of flesh
steals like riots —
my mind prowls the poverty of
Life.

Excommunicate while suffering
without shutting up  and hearing
past ghosts whisper:

“dying & hungry.”

08132020


I AM DUMB AND I AM WEAK

WITHIN the heat of night i see my moon shadow
within this night yes so if i ever say
i ever denied love only because i am weak
and i see you and i know how colors paint
life & how broken hearts weep for more tomorrows
And dear : i lost my mind and my mouth | i see how
seeds grow into frail flowers
/so i see my shadow \ even in sunlight —
so i am dumb and i am weak and so
human. So if within the heat
of night i see my moon shadow
within this night yes / i lost my mind
and forgot the spectrum of colors because
i lost your love. So sun shadows i burn
looking at your light and wish i could be
so much as you my brilliant sun and my mouth
and my teeth and heart and my soul weeps
tearings looking at the moon shadow.

:: 08.12.2020 ::


WHEN BLOOD MEETS MOONLIGHT

\   after the worst of days
of any age –on these nights
when blood meets moonlight
never feel bad for me.

i was glad
    to grow upon any night
so winds sing sounds–the
gates are near

ii.

when i wake up–Over there,
framed by a heart whose ventures
i love;  take me August nights!
after the worst of days

of any age
on these nights
when blood meets
moonlight.

:: 08.02.2020 ::


I DO NOT KNOW

why is night comforting
to lost souls
why evening rains feel
so lonely
i do not know
i do not know
the beautiful Sun
knows my name
the moon too beneath
everglade
why is life so painful
so burning
i do not know
i do not know

:: 07.28.2020 ::


BLOOMING ARTIST (whore)

for the true artist — art is bifurcated
into many brilliant pebbles of expression
     and many will hate you for it___smear
your work deeply within their heels –>
& tell the kids you are the devil.
    Say again?
       wait until i whip
the tar from my pants
(she was brought up religiously
silly-like)  i cannot wait
to play guitar!   Oh say release
the stress of any shooting star
— where is the one /sometimes
in winter\mostly within the sun
  we go.    hate to leave but the moon
comes (like a kid) over the terminus
of Earth.  

:: 07.23.2020 ::


NEVER WITH ME ALWAYS WITH YOU

never WITH me
always with you
kick the sand
kicking the dust
the rest is us:
i dream i
dreamed of Love;
screaming much
LOVE that which
burns brighter
than the Sun.

:: 07.23.2020 ::


LIFE BREAKING MY HEART (NATURE)

DREAMING closely i kissed nature
within everything and where it
was: dreaming i dreamt i was
back within myself
within a stain’d-spot
counting all the looks &
remembering all souls’ reflection
(is it all i wish to be?)
i find myself too afraid to
see. Dreaming delusions of
a storm of phantom numbers
where all beings die:
almost 8 billion years after
Earth ceases to exists —
is there any lamp post to see?
are the alley’s shadows all
you wish to be?
many wise hearts speak-spoken
so mysterious and fashionably
sensible you failed —
life breaks my heart.

:: 07.19.2020 ::


STRO9KE ME

   WILL everybody   hear (if you’re within this game) )a baby ANEURYSM ::::-  poets writing to kill someTHING :::- ELSEKeep a firm handshake — pen ineye -=–contributions elude   grammar Nazis’ – so you got yournumber down :  now sit down ____????–loved you so much you made me sick–  make my backbone slide –_ move yourself into my FACE:   –>  glyphand butterfly:  are you listening nowcause’ it ain’t no joke:   keep yourfancy pants on and learn me.
:: 07.17.2020 ::


THE TREMBLE OF TOADS

AGES of restless furnances
dancing among their own flames
eating death by untold wars

The Soul: a great warrior
and Earth the expansive battle-
ground that wring the necks of
evil ones; stamping & dancing
to kill the flames, vile hands
mottled flesh and skin.

Across the blue skies a Peace
while men scream and women cry;
babies giving up the life of youth
for the grave — turns the heads of
lambs!

while young men turn old and gnaw
their fingers; never praise madness
when it is madness of no purpose!

:: 07.05.2020 ::