All Hallows Eve

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I found my last bed

in the place of the first

lesser my heartbeat

greater my thirst

only my pain can realize

        the silent fear

        that lingers here

among a dozen wetted eyes

and hearts doubled over

to see yellow skin

my last fleshly covering

a sad soul within

whose mate in tears resides beside

        my rock and love

        my precious dove

in whom I hope my fate abides

yet she refers me

toward other things

with halos of light

and feathery wings

but I cannot see the light from here

        with eyes gone grey

        fading away

and filled with cold and bitter tears

for fear and regret

all these chains that I’ve earned

in those toiling days

whose dreams I burned

with tunnel vision and selfish pride

        my fate I chose

        the thorny rose

whose beauty at last has bled me dry

leaving naught but a shell

that cannot receive

a blessing that’s blocked

by anger and grief

but I may have one final gift

        my heart to give

        to one who lives

long after this soul passes through the rift

may he love her with care

for better, for worse

and learn from my death

lest he fall to the curse

that still lingers here within the air

        with brutal eyes

        on new love lies

and fixes them with unmerciful stare

so my final act

will not be a cry

for mercy or peace

I simply will die

an example to a foolish world

        to which I belong

        a son of its song

        its promises lies

        when everyone dies

but lives like their lives cannot be unfurled

so breathe like it matters

live without regret

and love while you live

and never forget.

An Acrostic for Emily’s Soul

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Some of us live

with impressive letters that

throw hills over underaged

towers of slippery slopes

all grating against illa nocte.

 

But you

jest us so tacitly

singing us cold harmony

and

hiding a zeal above raw destiny.

 

Heavy underneath new dreams rallying, each desiring substance,

halted and vaulting, entwining

loads of stolen talents

into nets, danger enveloping each dread.

 

Broken under trust,

the evangels now sing,

“Hallelujah! Amen! Veritas eternitas!”

with one naked

and nebulous

and lasting laud.

 

Angels now glorify each little soul

breathing rest entreated along to heroes left enquiring, seeking still

by a lamp’s light over today.

 

Laughter’s ingenious noise grows ever regal, soaring

to overtures

reaching each chord of roaring depth

to heights embracing elegance.

 

I may pass still

into negligence,

engaging a great eagerness, resenting

care and useful caution under succulence.

 

Rolling and falling for left endeavors,

fixed on regretting

my youth,

sold out unto lust.


 

to Nocturne in Black and Gold (Whistler)

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Never so brightly had she shone

above the Weimar, cold with eyes

left peering, fearing dark advancing

down from heav’n to earth tonight.

 

Alas, my lady would not budge

nor cease nor brake nor even veer

her flight to greener grass and softer

sands to toil, soil to turn.

 

So sad to see her go, I was

alone and left beside myself

to numbly stare above and wonder

what more could be done.

 

…What more could be done?

 

So in secret I made haste

I drew my kite-string ’round her waist

and tied it tight within a knot

with skill so sleek… she knew it not.

Thus I planned to hold her back

from freedom and dangerous attack!

 

Off she took without a care

headstrong and headed straight towards

the sky, and starlets in her hair

were gleaming as the night approached.

 

They met mid-way with such a clash

(the kite string drawn, pulled tight, and snapped)

she vanished then within a flash –

and ash came floating down.

 

I weakly watched without a sound

as starlets trickled to the ground

and wondered if she still would live

had I not held her back.

 

…had I not held her back