Saturday, June 26, 2010

The Human (Part one of two)

If frosted skin
Melted beneath
A violent sun
More loud than bright
Could the waters ever nourish this desert?

The barrenness of this land
A heart unused
And left in sickled moonlight
Has bloomed poisonous flowers
Perhaps capable
Perhaps not

Wrapped in black
This goddess stands
Away from the hedonist's paradise

From her body
She breeds
Black birds
Raging fires
Creatures to terrify small psyches

Raze across the land-
This land
And bear down on my shoulders

For I fear not
This coldness
Nor numbness
The rake of the heat
Of the other place
Keeps calling-
Though it continues to damage and scar
Then punish me for the injury

Must it be a sickle?
Cannot a fertile crescent-
Ride in sky?

Tell me and show me
I am tired and worn
Twisting and grappling

And over.

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