SilverLupine

a fossil dead down deep rib cage grave rot. sleepy, silver, silent a misty mind no thought. merely functional chew hope like cud spit like gunshot. soft soulsand to sift brainbunnies to chase or not.

I. pockets of poetry           we are the stars incarnate        burn, explode, tumble, snort   we melt in hot sunrise      wax with soft moonrise II. sprinklers, golf balls, sand          eighteen years old               we are the song when the sun goes down    bird envy                           we breathe delicious wet air         each day every night what what?              collapse                laugh III. shh, don't wake him                           solid whispers, now stirring                             bushes, tires, grunt lay low IV. swings, I fly                  don't jump     told you V.

I, too know why the caged bird sings.                 hemlock waxes rosy talk                 in the aureate mouth of the lock.               outside the spring sighs in silent appeal     so chained     i cannot hear.            inflection pleads the wretched ordeal    closeminded    i disappear.       conscience screams and slowly congeals and secondguessed can not cohere. dilatory dilapidated       dismal break in the dam dejected discovery deception!             what delicious vengeance             can atone for selfless sins? if a caged bird sings it can only moan or else knows not that underneath its feet

My eye sees, my ear hears And the perceptions set my brain hotly churning. The words heat, the thoughts bubble And the melting melody starts its turning. My heart races, the magma flows And from my fingertips explodes a fiery outburst. The fingers race, the lines cascade And on the page the inflammatory observations are violently versed. The fire recedes, the ash dispersed And that was my thoughtful creative sunburst.

As you drowsily roll to your other side in the sheets I feel an aching in my veins As if they were being tugged and plucked By your fingertips on your guitar strings As you strum your own sweet silly sonnets And match their rhythms to my slow breathing. When you leave my bones will splinter. You have grown into me Our love has split and spread and infected every cell in my body. My skull will crack along the faultlines The scars from so many frantic evenings I had weathered alone. My eyes will melt into my head From the searing tears that keep welling And burning my cheeks. My heart will break, freeze, crumble, evaporate, blow

The iv'ry keys laid out before my mind, Awaiting my dissonant, fretful moans, The words, the notes, these I do fail to find, To shade in truth my sighing, mournful tones. A melody screams loudly in my head, It churns and crashes hard in jealous wave, Torrential hail of useless words have bled, From my bereft, baffled and voiceless stave: Not one can well nigh manifest my heart. Cast out to sea on leaking glutting craft, And sinking 'neath floods of verbiage tart, I and my useless words are drifting daft, Yet when my measures sweetly surf the sound, Chords drown my brain and I am wash'd aground.

Earth quails beneath the spring-drunk sky As it roars with the power of its roiling disaster Ripping apart the dormant seed Wrenching forth the ripe beginnings of a weed That may be nurtured under a calmer eye. The aching melody whose sound is fleeting As it echoes throughout the chests Housing the hearts that shudder by instinct And yet stirring in them the peace extinct Sets them more quietly, tranquilly beating. The immeasurable splendor of the flaming celestial sphere As thousands of drops refract the light That captured could ignite the earth And melt it down, then fuel its rebirth Return us to a softer year.

This is what it means to ache. This is what it means to quiver Without even feeling that touch. So this is what it means to sigh? This is what it means to stretch without reaching? This is what it means to crack under pressure? This is what it is to crawl towards light yet fall short. This is what it feels like to claw downwards forever As the sand replaces itself faster than you can dig. This is what it tastes like to bite into salt expecting sugar. So this is what it means to cry? This is what it means to bleed without cutting? This is what it means to melt without fire? This is how I know to keep moving To keep throwing mysel

Would it not be pleasant to coast the clouds Brush the feathers of the fluffy stuff That drifts drunkenly across a glistering sky And grins with peaceful delight as it passes me by? Would we not be more at ease If we leapt to the moon whenever we pleased And curled ourselves up in the soft smiling craters That hold us sweetly as comets dust our lids? Would we not see further If we opened our tired eyes underwater To spite the salt rush and feel the ocean absolve us As crystal waves dance the aurora through the depths?

The sundry sigh invests itself in us And in our hearts festers the lovely plague; It blooms and swells in a cacophanous chorus That hashes our heartbreaks together. The birth of this union divorces the hope of silence; But a cage burns within the context Of the decadent perfume of love as it with suspicion elopes And chains the newly permitted impulse. The settling revenge fasts with every kiss But the consuming why blisters softly and silently to the surface Flaking away at the lingering lucent bliss, Until the creeping shock's haunting hiss Reaches its final climax. With this the echo of the shallow sighs die slowly.