Irreplaceable

Cresting the familiar stairwell,
to disfamiliar emptiness; no
riant beacon of thrill, to
welcome this vessel home;

trails tracing trails of memories,
beneath shadowed, swollen
sunsets; dew-ladened lashes
languish, as lids in denial

clench; idyllic flashes of fancy,
in the squeeze’s ensuing darkness;
desperately seeking delusions,
in reality’s unforgiving light;

too much time remains, of
not enough time remaining;
too little time for weeping, in
his heartbeat’s eternal pause

art: untitled 22 by Peterio

Blooderfly eyry

Palms to the sky, he questions and suffers ex animo; his ullage ever deepening, as cerise streaks escape his stretch, assoiling torturous trespasses

Disdainful dissatisfaction flutters from the alabaster perches, offering a brilliant contrast to the cerulean above and cimmerian within

A blooderfly eyry where he stands, while he withers, sins taking flight from grieving scars and open wounds, on the gale of his penances and profanities

This moribund monstrosity – a manic, maudlin menagerie – seeks forgiveness in his own infandous sacrifice, with pillars of rust and moons of salt

He melts into the earth, a deliquescing denouement, bathed in ignominy, wallowed in repentance, and forgotten by memory and futurity

art: by Zao Wou-Ki

2L2S

Will I feel more than pain, will I cease to exist

Will my memories forsake me when the moment comes to pass, must my memories be forsaken to see the moment through

Do I follow to conclusion the natural path, do I rush to hasten the stroke of time’s impassive hand

Will I grieve for myself and what I might have been, will I rejoice in the unknown and what I might become

Will I melt into the embrace of a grander scheme, will I lose who I am to commune with oblivion

To love or to suicide

art: street photo 04 by Lee Jeffries

Annularity

At the ineluctable end of his penannular path, he glares into the blackened filth of the gap, now merely six feet deep; never satisfied, nor fulfilled, nor complete

Unrested grains of sand felled at the edge, presaged his harrowing horizon; he’ll close this opening, this rift, this gift, a final offering to the aedicula beckoning

Bound by obeisance to life’s sisyphean shackles, pushing regret and sorrow ahead of time, filling the once bottomless abyss with a bounty of abysmal alterity

A resting place after a restless journey; lying atop failure upon forfeit; decaying compost his only contribution; his body, a bridge, naturally spans into existential cyclicality

art: MF045 by Eric Lacombe