The Pale Empress
The pale empress
Scatters crimson egg stars
Against a rippled mirror moon
And weaves nightshade loom
Darker than her bruised blue mood
Across the seductive divide
How the stake hearted harpy
Won’t stay lanced to disintegrating ground
Her pin pricked fingertips
Seeding blood orange droplets
That paint such beautiful violence
Behind heaven’s sunset flooded eyes
And her widowed grace
Robed in ghosts
Eats bitter bathed stars
Plucked from hell slanted vortexes
Devouring God’s winking capsules
To black hearted nothingness
And morbid hunger
Spills beyond swallowed snow globe kingdoms
Her targeting dark charms
Set upon souls unaware
As she hatches the stone blind beast
Screaming a night’s siren call
Gripping Eden with phantom reverie
And how we tumble to crushed ruin
Towards oblivion’s razored well
Her acid smile
A massacring masquerade
As death’s blushing ruby pout
On inked cyanide lips
Drains our entire world away
Her palette ripe with purloined colour
This farewell kiss
Such blister skinned sadness
Perfuming her rosehip tragedies
Through a wounded and dying universe.
Confessional
Lord, I ask for aid with this prompt. I can only think to compare it to writing a personal prayer on a chalkboard. I've only said the scripted prayers before in public, the Hail Marys and such, that you memorize and sit next to the National Anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance. I can't possibly speak how I do in private with You. I can't cry the tears or sing the praises that one only loses themselves in in Your presence. But, to tell You the truth, there is one little thing bothering me. Confessional is a little sacrilegious, right?
bones , rags , tissue paper
triangles of tissue paper
held upside down and
held between two fingers
like a dying bird
you have become the most
ordinary version of yourself,
the one who can bend into
a high street kind of shape
when did being human
become important to you
brown paper bag souls
sold by the pound on the
street corner by your house
the world is simple when
you make yourself simple
but the divide becomes
ever clearer, the illusion
rats living in the world's
most glamorous sewer
gnawing on bones, rags,
tissue paper, and souls
until they can no longer
remember the warmth
of their own sun
Doesn’t Add Up
A quick question to ponder,
for those whose hearts don’t wander.
If one and one are one,
then why does one minus one equate to...aargh...a vacuous, blackhole pit of despair reaching such a magnitude of suckage that nothing, including but not limited to joy and hope for a better future, can escape the accompanying shroud of negative, soul-crushing darkness resulting in a miniscule chance to find love again, even after adding more ones that its mother assured would be perfect fits when done?
Ummmm, asking for a friend who, unlike me,
isn’t “new math” savvy.
Depends on how you define success
Is there a place in the universe where your vision of life has met with greater success than on Earth?
Is it a place where one need never fear others? Where all can live in peace? Where violence of any sort has no place?
Is it a place where hatred, greed, envy, anger, jealousy no longer exist?
Is illness, physical and mental, eradicated?
Do love and kindness abound?
When was the last time you gazed upon your creation? Did you give up long ago or do you still hope?
Do you see Earth as a success? Why or why not?
