Archive | August, 2013

Denial

1 Aug

Denial sits upon the crown of my head
Bathed in course, satirical waters
Of ambivalent teenhood.

Its bony wing rests above my ear
Its back arched along the curve of my skull,
Craning my neck to sustain the weight
Of the denial I so yearn to suppress.

And yet
Its calf dangles just under my brown,
Concealing the truth
Woven into my eyes
By my own fingers and thread.
“How I wish you could perceive my handiwork;
How I wish I could capture your reaction
To the multicolored string in my gaze
Dangling down the brink of my eye
And darkened by the river of tears to my foot’s heel.”

And yet,
Before my denial’s blanketing calf,
Clothed by the mistrust of ambiguous glares of judgment,
Falsity is truth,
And my truth is a fairytale.
And to all outside my colorful gaze,
This paradox is clarity
And perhaps, love, you are the writer.

Questions Behind Glass

1 Aug

Cradled by the surging foam of wave’s brink,
Glass crawls out of the clarity
As if in fear of its own evanescence,
As evanescent and everlasting
As the ocean itself.

Spears the dampened powder, it does,
A softness shadowed with each sporadic breath of a sea,
Foaming by the mouth of incomparable genius,
A wisdom and insanity
Sustaining the very feet of this earth.

Regardless and nonetheless
And with all words of molded neglect,
Jagged bits of glass thrust themselves
Into illusive welcome, a powdered sin.
And heat’s merciless palm
Cups the lingering beads of genius
And INHALES
Until enigma is merely
Glass in sand.

And yet, reflected within the tinted clarity,
Under grime of an hour’s homelessness
And blood of a runner’s toes,
Is the glistening hint of a lost brilliance,
Willingly sacrificed
Through fear of fate.

It is not the ocean I fear.
Nor is the glass beneath which I hide
For whom my tears are shed.
It is rather the question that surges the waves,
That is the catalyst for an ocean’s foaming lips,
That is the shadow that coats
All it engulfs
In its entirety:

Who are we behind the glass?
And who remain within the sea?