Whirling sandstorm,
I craved to come down upon you,
away from my wretched ethers,
into your sleep
like soothing soft cool rain
on hot sweat dripping days,
quite a wondering
wide-eyed height.
Could I tender out
your vicious nightmares
in the waking hours?
Oh please
with a sweet small sting and a sigh
to the left and right corners
of your eyelids.
I wept sudden and full,
staggered desperate breaths on
rusty bed corners,
up all night and
the days to come,
wanting to unburden
you so much so
that to not touch your quivering hands
makes me ill
with writhing flashes,
horrors performed
on our precious holy humanity.
The tortured souls
drove me mad to
exorcise old
quanderings and procedures,
tight misconceptions and
trafficked mechanisms,
stale perceptions of wrath wars
and egos,
violent instincts,
anger raging out on me
so hard,
I choked agony down,
thus found in my bones breaking
slowly,
under the pressure
of it all.
Magic patterns and witnesses
then must thrust and twist,
wrap around us
beauty and empathy,
connected to
the river flows,
energy weaving our liquid
and juicy spirits together
in hallowed peripheries and prophets,
regardless of the
undertaker knocking
loud aggression
as to almost drown
out the supple sound
of surges and tidal waves of revolution,
superconductor connections,
electric rolling earths,
delight realms
of euphoria
to just loosen the
grinding jaw,
even a little,
the muscle aches eased slightly,
the stress headaches
painted desperate desired sanctuary on our faces,
insomnia tripping elements
into suffering spaced
dark visions
of the games being played,
temperatures gnashing,
growling out at
each other
in teeth sharpening suicidal tendencies.
I panted then,
with sharp moans,
within the struggled coliseums
to hide discretely
the trauma,
blushes and downturned eyes
to the brutal ground,
shake out the heartbreak
and the death rates,
my introverted
awkward
octopus ponderings
striving for words,
yet found only movements
etched round my curves,
even just faint whispers
to kiss lightly
the wounds,
burns and blisters
on innocent lovely
skin,
yet even the flesh itself
thrashes about
in its restless caged soul,
supernatural natures
harnessed by the
toxic systems of
desolate cement,
dead eyes,
vacant complacent airs
of oppression and
unjust accountants
screaming lies and corruption.
Enough.
We silenced the idolized hymnal of
the almighty him and masqueraded her,
their faked flailing
excuses stomped out
by our
hopeful staggering cries,
to our families,
blood and water entities
howling back
to healing,
to living love out
even with boots
crunching our necks.
I laughed out loud at
your silly stupid scared propaganda.
Ha,
As if faked fucked,
even bloody
plastic and rubber acid
could keep us down.
No comments:
Post a Comment