Skip to main content

Trojan Horse

step-father's marrow is a white
man's, that's steadily killing
him

Cassandra (Mother) says graft
versus host disease is a war
he'll certainly lose

Snakes have licked the ears
of hers and mine, the fall
of Troy is charted by doctors
with monotone voices and weary
stares

Body stripped bare, he's already
burned upon the pyre, Chemotherapy
Ultraviolet scorching, patches of
crusty flesh

In dreams he plays a giant mystical
organ with me, keys made of book
bindings and slabs of gold, that slid
beneath my fingers to a melody not my
own

He smiles, sways to the chaotic notes
and when all's gone silent and still
he stares at me;

"The battles we lose inside ourselves
will always kill us in the end."

I beg Apollo to blindfold us until
the fall.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Thunder of David #68: In the Fifth Tone

No longer let our voices fall to a whispering march of death. Jam your baritones and inflections through songs for a god gone dead Make the earth shudder under your footsteps as you let the wind take the pages like a flickering flame Make your presence known through the howling sleet and rain - scream in the faces of distorted kings, spit on their robes and shit in their eyes Cast your fury like the waves and witness the smoke of god vanish in the shadow of a cat, feast upon the words that wither like the grass Smear the self indulgent prophets in sweat and mud, drown the child of the Euphrates and piss on his holy stone Go horse in your burning wrath, sodomize wretched Isaiah, suffocate him in the wallowing tears of Job, let the blood of your hatred flow like wine Drink of your consummate supplication steeped in rage and disgust. Let it sustain you to shake the pillars and columns of his temple to the ground Dictate your commands and bask in the boundless power your existence brings t...

Inside

"There's a chaos inside that 'll not die down." Unsteady gale wind whips at hair rips souls from their bones leaving corpses of naked bodies curled and crying, wet and muddy Blackness, sound of breathing a scream that wallows, tares from the intestines spewing brown bile, lead heavy words "You'll not drown in a wake of your own making." Shoving gravel through eye sockets, dreading tomorrow caught in a web of mucus, rotting tobacco leaves, dust of glass sprinkled on tongues Empty bottles of fire sing heavy somber tunes, tumbling off the end of the earth, cutting the heads of goddesses bathing in the stars "Turmoil inside suffocates tomorrow and the next." "I know."

A Recent Development

If you were a dandelion flower how would you wilt? like all the rest? Fragile and weak, lost in these words A confusing prison mistaken for freedom Quick sex of spring brings freedom To these shivering acres of flowers dribble their seed on concrete prison floors. Caught in the wind, they'll wilt And wallow, with hard worthless words Stuck in a structure so fragile What feeds this pitiful fragile Growth? A sad hope towards freedom Where no one rules but your words? Has no one told you? You're a flower. Beautiful but brief. You'll wilt Like the rest. A cycle, called prison! We'll live and die in this prison. Together, inseparable and fragile Til the end. Here's where souls wilt Into each other. Passing this freedom Onto the next bright yellow flower They'll scoff at the seeds of our words Begging and searching for the right words, They'll whore themselves out for a prison Wet with dew, sprouting a different flower. The soil's all the same. Give into fragi...