in the shadow
i am so many
i am bone knife
i am blood dream
i am antlers inked
i am rust scream
if there were a love
i would disbelieve
for i am so many
in the shadow
unseen
Category: poetry
so many
that lost
that lost generation on
the corner of 6th street
and some unrecalled cross
half lives forgotten
at cigarette butt curbs
run sticky with
mad dog spilled
waiting for the bloodsport
to find its fill feeding
the maelstrom under
paint-me-black decksnow we are again
the things we did in
the ruins of forebears
along rapids back then,
scaling backwalls by
the falls with flowers
in our heads
like those tools left out
in the rain, my friend
blood washed to rust in
our time flowing over
to the big river in
concrete broken gutters
now we are bloodless
againsometimes i am also downtown
sometimes i am also downtown
in all undercity and brick
cigarette sidewalk sewer perfume
seedy bookstore, street chic boutique
standing, selling streetcorners
hey, gotta a dollar? i pay you
back next week
a river runs down the length
of my side, flowing swift and wide
sometimes i am also downtown
along with all this nature insidenothing flint
scrying of flint eyes
finding in them
nothing
.
distant ridges call horses
home with the wind
blow mane black,
tangle mane dun —
storm, she is rising
rise now painted walls
first sky tears fall
determined, there is
nothing, there is
nothing in those
flint eyes at alli dream in paper
i dream in paper
walls thin of shadow
under a pastel moon
hang barbed of wire
set singing on wind
these long cold of night
scatter you pink
scatter you wine
down by the riverside
steal heart my bone
folded pale of pale
i dream in paper
under a pastel moonpainted hearts
[originally posted on sceadugenga.com, October 24, 2020]
statues in the winter garden
crying stone tears
the memory of summerland
painted on their heartsNote: I am taking a short break from posting new material and am tossing out a few older pieces as explained here and here. Thanks for your continuing support.
tattoo
[originally posted on sceadugenga.com, October 19, 2020]
the october country
is where all the sad
middle-aged men go —
wondering just
which journey brought
them to this place
wearing a teardrop frozen,
tattooed in the corner of
their eyeNote: I am taking a short break from posting new material and am tossing out a few older pieces as explained here and here. Thanks for your continuing support.
of velvet and lace
[originally posted on sceadugenga.com, September 7, 2020]
death rattle leaves
shuffle underfoot
a touch of the
samhain season &
the japanese whispers
of a secret oktoberNote: I am taking a short break from posting new material and am tossing out a few older pieces as explained here and here. Thanks for your continuing support.
words
[originally posted on sceadugenga.com on August 29, 2020;
modified September 1, 2026]denise, with black & sick-green
painted nails, rat's nest siouxsie hair
hefted each of her knit long sleeves
showed me her arms, each
etched with words:
"MAGGOT"
"WHORE"
"TRAMP"
"GROTESQUE"
in block letters, thinking
to scare me away
"i'm ugly, on medication &
i cut myself.
see? doesn't that scare you?"
expecting me to make excuses
as to why i had to leave
i smiled sadly,
not sure how to tell her
i'd share her pain,
if only she'd let me,
having carried the burden
of my own
she drifted away before i might reply,
an ophelia in the weedsNote: I am taking a short break from posting new material and am tossing out a few older pieces as explained here and here. Thanks for your continuing support.
