fire & smoke

She was the fire in my chest,
the volcano in thine breast.
Albeit my ice heart,
she burned bright and she burned blue.
She made my glacier part,
And my soul flew.

Mine own lungs’ oxygen kindled her,
as well as the brazier she lodged in my ribs.
Now she burns no more,
She left my core sore.
All that’s left is to vomit ash.

Sometimes at dawn if I am lucky,
I find my soul’s dew,
ruined waters of my spirit.
Even rarer i find a heavy fog,
or a light mist.
As though she burnt bright,
Even if only for a night.
On those days i am a kite.

And she is both the fire and the smoke,
devouring me, lifting me or choking me.

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by another name

Hell isn’t at all what I thought,
There is no fire,
And my bed isn’t a pyre.
Not even the slightest ash.
The air is clean,
skies so blue.
Glitter grows on trees,
Money glimmering in the seas.
A heaven with you.
It is a place where even the idea of you,
Could never be.
A hellish heaven so to say,
But some have gone so far as to stay.
I say,
Hell is hell even without the flame,
Hell is hell even by another name.

birth

I see fire,
A swollen belly filled with flame,
a burning tree inside,
a volcano lined with red,
it will spew to fill the chasm,
where a chunk of crown awaits it,
the fire comes tonight.
We shall bathe in its light,
our charred hearts shall rejoice,
with the blue kiss.

spring

Quieten your fire now,

Turn it into a spring,

Let it spring forth,

like the sea’s wroth,

Let it leap,

like a man to his death,

fire turned wave,

deliciously desperate,

desperately insane.

Incendiary shards of pain,

woven into a delicate mirror,

to cut and slice,

with thine reflection.

 

 

His face

An elusive clarity,

Sired in the cloak of darkness,

Crowned in the misty spires of shadows,

Eerie and leering, he looks on.

But I have seen the truth of him,

The truth of his lies.

I have glanced his face,

Abounded with ugliness,

He bears the ugliness of a thousand men,

Uglier still with every gesture.

Dreary eyes,

Deadened and reddened,

Drooping from his billowy parchment skin,

He has no bones,

I see his saggy sallow cheeks,

A putrid slit for a mouth,

Eternally spinning the lore of woe,

Holes for ears and a nose,

I wonder if he breathes at all.

Jagged teeth,

Rusted and wrought.

I have seen his face,

Perched atop men’s breasts and women’s skulls,

Like the vulture he is.

I know the truth of this creature,

Though his might may never cease,

I have glanced his face from the rear,

The face of fear.

just the taste

HAPPINESS,
an acquired taste, some may say,
a rare delicacy it is.
Its marks indelible on my inner palate,
Though i fear i my never have tasted it at all.

Of it i hold faint memory,
like a mist atop a hill
Higher still and fading with every grasp.

It had the scent of an unknown wine,
brewed in men’s hearts.
At times with the tangy prick of sacrifice
& a sweetness of simplicity.

Intense it becomes,
In the presence of love,
& the simple majesties of mine,
dark legs, bumpy skin,crooked teeth, memories
I felt it then.

The memories have brought it back,
In the buds of my tongue it has sprung.
An unlikely taste indeed,
Always happening upon me,
Never when i’m in pursuit.

This taste is like nothing I’ve ever had,
yet it has the familiarity of everything I’ve always wanted.
Nonplussed at its mysticism, I fear
It will vanish,
I hope it does not.

I shall interrupt this dialogue of old,
reveal treasures unseen,
In thine chest,
unleash wonders,
debunk all these blunders,
Within my monologue,
Uncover enlightenment,
In places oft ignored,
With the tenor of my voice,
For I am the one they call Gold,
Bolder than the blond,
They killed me before I spake,
The past before last,
Now I return,
They shall hear,
You shall all hear,
And if I must,
I shall tear thine oratorial orifice,
for he who hears but listens not