A silent city shoots through the night sky bold as bastards cornered in the school yard steel towers lit like candles reaching high. Time had long since left those finger tips charred; they desire fire once more before they die. History and weather have road them hard left them here to rot in the rust and ruin the corpse of an industrial bruin.
In truth the bear will ne’er be heard again, though I feel its voice call to me at night some haunted tone that resonates with pain coercing out of that void a subtle light muted memory strikes in clouds of rain gifting a pat to which I have no right. Thus I am brought to worship the carcass; my minds eye set to explore that darkness.
It smells like the cracked seal of cranberry jam warring with damp leaves and water logged sticks The air hits head on like a dislodged tram rust sharp on cold breeze like broken bricks Inner workings roil like wolf burdened lambs the disheveled pipes turning tricks. A shard of moonlight stumbles down on this old magic reaching out from the abyss.
The tramp trembled to look through light a fast fight with the eyes against the now nebulous night filling white wounds like flies.
And the noise! It just kept coming a deep drumming down beat to hide the sense of succumbing in a sweet thrumming treat ears decisively devour till it sours and spoils into something dark and dower in late hours tired toil.
“Could it be that damn devils drink?” the tramp thinks through the shakes light and sound beating him to brink both synced to bend and break.
Cold walls make emptiness hollow a word becomes a paragraph but the silence is often worse; that soft, sobered condemnation.
It grows on you like wilted vines masking mortar and stoic stones with a web that pulls at the bones and antagonizes the spine into emergency room lines. ‘Twas silence that broke Apollo and surely I too will follow beneath all this desolation with my own frigid narration; cold walls make emptiness hollow
but they fit the mood of the thing. So I sit, intensely alone processing all that I was shown wearing tragedy like a ring; the whole of my mind in a sling thoughts circled like an epitaph rubbed raw in stone on my behalf. ‘Ouroboros,’ the term scoured when spoken at the right hour a word becomes a paragraph.
Poisonous prose sinking inside deep within the ardent soil that place where thoughts oft wont to roil and become greater than they should louder than the self ever could spitting out erratic free verse without pause or time to rehearse and asking, “repeat after me,” so you spew disheveled debris… but the silence is often worse.
A void mirrored is oppressive a wave that splits the earth and sky sent upon us to purify turning the peaceful aggressive the charitable, possessive. Nothing is more than stagnation. It’s more than obliteration. It is the ego sacrificed sold out for a zero-sum price that soft, sobered condemnation.
There between the stars are lights from afar stars themselves blackened by distance dulled by time and lost to naivety.
A certain level of corruption foreshadows their revelation some darkness within siphoned from the void without to leave these distant galaxies gasping for air with us greedily grasping at their corpses and calling it power.
The audacity.
A corpse can’t smell a corpse through its fetid remains.
We stand waiting for a break in line, Staring the thousand yards at our spines Through BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM violent hues in bloom; Metallic rain that levels the pines.
The captain calls out over the sounds, To send another out to the hounds, BOOM-BOOM the bombs crawl, BOOM-BOOM and they fall; No more will I see them above ground.
Hearing my name sends ice through my veins I breathe deep and embrace the insane, A last act of violence, sulfured silence; I hear nothing, nor shall I again.
Addled by my mortality, I retreat from reality; Let it rest for the day, As would I if I could again, Let this new become what has been, And leave my mind to play.
What dreams I had when I was young! Songs of color my mind had sung, Vague thoughts caught in fugue state. All I dream now is darkness, Strapped inside this drifting harness, As life and death debate.
Grow Gray With Me 