Revelation (poem)

The noise began slowly and softly, like summer rain falling on a tin roof, coming from the moonless air and issuing its macabre melody to the tree skeletons and cold street.

It was quiet at first. And as the night began to darken around me, I could see the stars fading away into pinpoints of light and the sound grew, like an echo, a phrase repeated over and over.

I stopped in my tracks, listening hard. A whisper floating on air, innocuous, accompanied by the misplaced sound of horse hooves. It spoke: "Come and see!"

Suddenly, he was there.
The dark figure loomed in front of me, making me stumble backwards. In the darkness, I could make out the large figure of a horse, with a man astride.
The horse, pale in color, pawed the ground and looked at me with dead, cloudy eyes.
The figure on the horse was tall and broad shouldered, and his image seemed to shimmer slightly, never seeming to settle on one image, flickering back and forth in ghostly hues.

My breath caught in my throat, my body turning cold. The sudden silence was so strong that I couldn't even find the beat of my heart within my chest.

I stood frozen until he spoke to me.

He spoke in a lazy and arrogant, yet undeniably powerful tone, lulled into a dangerous cadence.

"White, Red, Black, Pale
A blunt separation, a covering veil
The seals that were broken, we ride on the air
Four ways that we travel, a curse that we bear
The sword and the Lamb and the beasts and defeat,"

He turned away as if to depart, but glanced back at me, looking me right in the eyes.
"My work on this world is not yet complete."

And with that he was gone, the sound rushing back into the night.

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Poem

I cannot remember the way your smile looks
Or if your eyes have ever been filled with anything but ice.
They are like dead creatures
A shell of something that once was.

Black marks on a screen hold no meaning
And do nothing to sate the growing animal in my chest
No matter how much I try to distract him
All he does is stare at me with his wicked eyes, silently mocking.

Reality has bent, it seems
The world around me too bright, unfocused
Thoughts caressing the shore like the tide
But being whisked away too soon to remember.

I wish I could remove the shadows
Let different light illuminate the space remaining
Phantom places where you once rested
And leaving me to wonder if it ever happened at all.

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Butterflies Again

A vague memory, an unwelcome thought
the brush of the wings
of the butterflies that were suddenly there when you were near
You are not mine anymore, though
Those tender insects, now wretched and misplaced
A number of them trying to escape,
but just inhabiting the empty space you left behind instead.

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Sometimes I can feel the moon
shining on me with its bright eye
and pulling my thoughts tide-like towards it

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What is innocence?
An able vicissitude
Thrown and tossed about

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Will (poem)

Somehow, in all of the great vastness of the world, of space, of the universe: the millions of stars and galaxies, and time that stretches onward

I am more immense.

With my mind, the darkness and light are mine to embrace, reject or amplify.
I am not a small part, one small sentence in Life's book.
I hold the pen in my hand.
I can write hundreds of books, fashioning each page with my own desires and feelings that shoot from my mind like comets and fashion the very fabric of what the universe is formed out of.

Thoughts. Will.

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poem

Time is singing in my bones

And turning them to dust 

footprints (poem)

I've had footprints in my dreams

and on my mind. 

Phantom trails that slowly move from the top of my head 

down my jawline and down my chest and to my fingers. 

I can feel them. The marks of those who walk in and out of my head

leaving trace like silent snow in a frozen world. 

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Poem

There are gold flecks in the pavement

and spray paint on my brain
and all of it runs through my eyes like water through a drain.

Green leaves on trees and owl calls

backyards and cars and loud footfalls

the sounds of fate 

a rusty gate

the train tracks to my left in wait

the echoes of the past 

fly through the air like birds on wing
and ghosts of those who wandered here
are there in everything.
the air is warm
the nights are long
but youth, it fades, and soon is gone.


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Weep No More (poem)

As the droplets trickle down in paths like human veins, and rain falls, a gentle cacophony against the glass

The flowers have all closed their petals

And the sky has gone quiet.

I cannot hear the songs anymore

They used to reach out to me like branches of trees

But now silence has deadened their limbs and wilted their leaves.

It is the sound of faded colors

The earth slowly weeping.

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