Haiku

My shadow and I,
keeping trysts under streetlamps,
meet, hold hands, diverge.

Breathe Poetry

not your average mountain air
--smells a little dingy
     --smells of
old, twisted heartland backpathwayroad.
      in.
      in.
get get in.
 to the swing.  rock to sleep
 breathing poetry.
soft.  sleep i, and
dream of inhalants
--poetry frees the smell of cellular days.

to steffy on turning one score and one

sing a solemn soft song
powdered-sugar your face
take a trip in the fifth dimension
and find another place

rock to sleep in the bat cave
rock to sleep in the waves
count the stars in the rubbish-heap
count the little star-graves

count another year gone by
and carve your name in ice
this year of life called twenty-one
will.  not.  come.  twice.

The Antarctic Drift

Have you found the rainbow city?
        I've found the space where it lay
   for a night before it got up,
      shook itself off,
 and went out for a soda.

Sugarhigh

I've never met honey as black as you,
nor have I seen any thicker.

But I've had you on my tongue for ages,
tumbled you in the mix,

and there's no way return now.
There's no way to return.

LAMB

i am the sacrificial child
        laid out
     on the altar of my undoing.
  and though my father grieves,
no hand from heaven
        will reach out
     and stay the descending
            knife.

crown o' gems | darkwaves+larkwings sky

jewel@gleeful.com
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