Let us dive into the bloodshot pool
that has become your eyes...
Flap our arms wildly--
to purge the beast
from your waning body
Let us burst into each others flames
bravely just like old times
except now
let us forgive every sin
come together inside your veins
chase this rabid venom
from your blood
Let us seek this cerulean sky
you’ve promised
There aren’t enough headstones
left to swear on
Not enough time
for eternity
I remember the days before your
Russian Roulette chemistry
kicked in; confident days
before your bones ached
for a fix.
Darling, these are impossible depths
to rise from with leeches
on the spine
I still dream of the day when
you will look up and know
a gentle sun
For now, we dwell in your shadow
afraid to breathe, sweating
your absence, dodging
your funeral
Take these, my hands--
They have been
claws too
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Departed
--now unknowable, contained, though
seen palpably, unable to speak
but heard in the echo of days
too hair raising for blankness
long, piercing memories
dancing briefly upon
the delicate fibers
of reverie
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
seen palpably, unable to speak
but heard in the echo of days
too hair raising for blankness
long, piercing memories
dancing briefly upon
the delicate fibers
of reverie
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
Purge
It was in the utopia of joined breath---
in the crucifixion of thoughts
that bled you…
It was in the chisel that shamelessly
etched possibility into a
calloused heart
It was in the lawless glow of untamed spirit
confessing the devilry behind eyes
and midnight smiles
It was in the starving words that cascaded
down from hurricane lips into
a wild foam of desire
It was in the timeless vestige of love’s shadow
where two silhouettes dared to grapple
and emerge feverish from cinders
It was belief in something stronger than words
when time froze and profound emptiness
ached to be filled
Or maybe it was the soul’s emancipation
from a cage of ribs into unknown
cavities the color of sunset
Maybe still, it was the timeless divide
of yielding flesh, splitting love open
like a new dimension
A strange universe sliding in pure as water
firmly rooted, reaching for the core--
traveling with gravity...
Copyright © 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
in the crucifixion of thoughts
that bled you…
It was in the chisel that shamelessly
etched possibility into a
calloused heart
It was in the lawless glow of untamed spirit
confessing the devilry behind eyes
and midnight smiles
It was in the starving words that cascaded
down from hurricane lips into
a wild foam of desire
It was in the timeless vestige of love’s shadow
where two silhouettes dared to grapple
and emerge feverish from cinders
It was belief in something stronger than words
when time froze and profound emptiness
ached to be filled
Or maybe it was the soul’s emancipation
from a cage of ribs into unknown
cavities the color of sunset
Maybe still, it was the timeless divide
of yielding flesh, splitting love open
like a new dimension
A strange universe sliding in pure as water
firmly rooted, reaching for the core--
traveling with gravity...
Copyright © 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
Conscience
Sometimes
it doesn’t hurt too much
and one can sleep
responsibly
Other times
we know
that our roots are collapsing
into abstract pieces
where if we stare
long enough
certain parts become
visible to us
Sometimes
it remembers
when our entrails
were unconscious of aging
Other times
our shadow
reminds us of form
it once knew
Sometimes it overtakes us
like radiation
Other times we bask
in the glow of its presence
Sometimes
we know it’s an albatross
Other times
the burning rope that was flung
from our desolate spires
genuinely lands
deep inside its
unflinching
arms
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
it doesn’t hurt too much
and one can sleep
responsibly
Other times
we know
that our roots are collapsing
into abstract pieces
where if we stare
long enough
certain parts become
visible to us
Sometimes
it remembers
when our entrails
were unconscious of aging
Other times
our shadow
reminds us of form
it once knew
Sometimes it overtakes us
like radiation
Other times we bask
in the glow of its presence
Sometimes
we know it’s an albatross
Other times
the burning rope that was flung
from our desolate spires
genuinely lands
deep inside its
unflinching
arms
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
Dreams
I saw a grouping of dreams,
bleed into shadows
pushed through uncertain horizons
ferociously seeking
higher ground to ascend
the view, diminished
people fading out
like footsteps on blank sand
I saw a murder of dreams
buried beneath my own
and wondered:
will soil alone
comfort the bones
of broken dreams?
are the bones of dreams
at peace?
are they released into the sky
three dimensional voids
desperately finding their way
back to earth, into eyes?
I found my dream
on the roof of a lonely tower
blown by chance winds
looking down on the dead bodies
of other dreams
that were reaching for it
the dark clouds opened
a strange wind blew
and more dreams fell
little spatters of blood
upon my skin.
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
bleed into shadows
pushed through uncertain horizons
ferociously seeking
higher ground to ascend
the view, diminished
people fading out
like footsteps on blank sand
I saw a murder of dreams
buried beneath my own
and wondered:
will soil alone
comfort the bones
of broken dreams?
are the bones of dreams
at peace?
are they released into the sky
three dimensional voids
desperately finding their way
back to earth, into eyes?
I found my dream
on the roof of a lonely tower
blown by chance winds
looking down on the dead bodies
of other dreams
that were reaching for it
the dark clouds opened
a strange wind blew
and more dreams fell
little spatters of blood
upon my skin.
copyright (c) 2011 by Vincent John Ancona
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
