Requiem

on a throne
of bones
she waits
her beheaded
love leans
in her lap
trickling down
her stone legs
faded petals
of her glory days
the bitter wind
licking her feet
and tossing
those old glories
out into the street
her abandoned
children wander
beyond the
wilderness of words
to be their own
ball and chains
for what all
the blood was shed
can no longer
be said
the words have
been trodden
into the mud
and her tears
tear the skies
from their
somber gray
into darkened night
away from sanity
away from her
heart of liberty
away from
her radiant light

Religion

I wake up
I piss and shower
and dress
I let the dogs out
I pack a lunch
and I eat
I drive
I check the blind spot
in traffic and
pull a muscle
I work and play
and try not to mix
the two, unsuccessfully
I clean and 
pull a muscle
I turn on the TV
I watch and learn
what life is not
I stand up
and pull a muscle
I eat and eat
and eat, probably some more
I write what won't
be read
I then paint instead
I cook, then clean
some more
and pull a muscle
I put my barefoot
on the bare ground
I complain about hating
I love to complain
and I live to love
I lay down with
my husband
We pray then kiss
I pet our dogs
I watch TV
knowing what life is not
I fall asleep, eventually

Face space

faces spilled out
on counter tops
from glasses too
full of liquids
or clumsy hands
faces pool in
the liquid lineage
held by distance
on that expanse
they unfurl in
wrinkled napkins
or paper towels
gazing upon the
world before them
this recognition
in an unrealized
divination

The fluff dreams are made of

my dreams choose
caskets as places
to lay their heads
and slumber soundly
leaving me in the night
I wonder what they
are dreaming of
when they've left me
out in the cold night
do they take flight
as I enjoy so much to do
deep in REM
do they fall off
giant cliffs only
to be suddenly shaken
awake with racing hearts
do they try to run
only to find the more
they try the less they can
or maybe they don't at all
dream that is
when they slumber
leaving me in the night
to row my boat
down a stream
as we were taught
for life is but a dream

The thin line

we'll climb
the thin line
of smoke
that rises
from out
of the waves
it will lead
us into the
starry dark
where distance
has forgotten
both speed
and distance
so we can
peer into
the past

we'll climb
the thin line
of smoke
that rises
from out
of the waters
which have
given us this
chance to find
ourselves and
each other
when we
have collided
with the matter
in hands
that have held us
beaten us
and led us
to ourselves and
each other

we'll climb
the thin line
of smoke
that rises
from our
burning bodies
the fires
that have
quenched
the ocean's
salty thirst
our blood
that has
dowsed the
warring flames
within stampeding
hearts and souls