Crumbled Mansions
Quivering voices stagger on the edge
an orange and black orb swings in wind
glomming onto survival like purple fruit
entangled vines searching for erstwhile home
The inside dusty remnants leave no footprints
symbolic creatures of muscular tension
lead savage trails of ligaments and tendons
threaded in braids tightly woven, creeping.
Crumbled mansions of my dusky past
wing away like broken blackbirds
I listen for harsh doorbells and
hanging lanterns through ashes
hidden in the depths of silver alcoves.
Silent dwelling can’t speak through glued lips
can’t hear hope above the lion’s growl
shrieks and howls speak from rundown bowels
empty space unfilled and desolate, crawls
Hark! I hear the reflections of an errant doorbell
chasing the calls of worms and spiders
clearing the murky days of darkness and doom
reflecting upon wisdom that betrayal imitates joy.
I yank the remembrance of where I once resided
pull strands of memory from orifices of my skull
hypnotized by the orange and black eye, swinging
out of periphery of my sight and mind’s eye
But I strain for the creaking sounds of cradle rocking
knowing that there must have been a dwelling here
or was it just a hallucination of what I yearned to see
I now know that nothing at all is guaranteed to be