Retribution
I stabbed God in the neck.
A combative tear with all my wrist,
lodging deep, heel end to the tip,
a stainless steel, lifeless dagger.
The echoes in Cobalt, pulsated solitary when
batons etched Rothkonian red,
embellishing cyanosis, and
handcuffs chained stripped canvas.
Hospitals hear the purest prayers — lie.
Decapped grenades, hollow points sieve
through incapacitated torn gasps,
cowering shadows in Baghdad.
The absence of a wail, nothing
like the species doomed
to suffer dread, desperation and death.
The perforation silent as a tear.
My brazen contempt was fruitless but
searing pain shoots down my spine,
blue china in the veins,
carpet turning cherry.
A malevolent, monstrous maniac,
reflected in the silvered mirror, cut just like me.
Bulging eyes; less in pain than disbelief
before I blacked out.
***
Bookish Approximations
The verse of numbers and equations,
black gold xerox on pulp white,
shared my interest for passivity.
It housed scrawling
dotted and crossed,
of autumn departs,
Just like me.
A page has been ripped out here.
Chopped woodshine silhouette
against the yellowing spine.
Bookmarks of a troubled evening
and endurance of an abuse,
no complaints were made,
Just like me.
A dog-eared page
marks a former interest
in the crisscrossed patterns
Of the leather-bound
on a dedicated afternoon.
I wonder if the binding missed,
the fleshy caress of an admirer,
Just like me.
The belfries are waking up,
as abrasive wear settles in,
Soon autumn oaks will shed gold,
a rotting, disheveled pile
of a long forgotten bloom,
consigned to oblivion,
Just like me?
***
Cosmic Plea
Last night, the moon,
shimmering yellow but
blue around the edges,
like a recent case of senilis,
sailed into my room,
through water stained glass.
Settling on the couch across,
It stared while I waited.
I think you lied to me.
The yellow jade and
basket of jasmine.
mudmen used to call me.
Were they only words to you?
The crown with the crescent moon,
turned penny plain,
a barren stretch of busted myths and wonder
after you walked on my chest.
A small step for you,
scarred eternity for me.
Your wandering minds,
transgressed what was mine:
Recess for the Gods,
a song of fantasy.
But I seek your neglect,
of the sun which,
runs seasons with its wrist.
For in retribution,
fear the fiery steeds,
who trample without mercy.
***
A Doctor’s Diagnosis
Observed the mauvish cotton slinked shoulders.
Patterns imitating oceans flowing down her glistening neck.
Quaked my heart on its own accord.
Ripping the cords like a maison’s knife.
Speared glass rough against my sides.
Time glitched, recurring evening.
Can you fix me?
***
