Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Whisper between - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Hurt me:
every word manipulates
days like today.
Candlelight, a silent ear -
recite your
deepest fears,
mind a root.
Ask: you don't have to
be afraid. Submission is
part of the return.
In the distance, the dead.
Expand. You can almost hear
this last trembling.


Monday, June 29, 2015

Full moon overhead - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Do you believe
in a dream
that wanders?
Full moon overhead,
mood a hiding place,
satisfied hesitation.
We don't know that
everything dies.
The day, sheer,
weakly revealing
the silk of
actions unnoticed. 




Friday, June 26, 2015

Behind the hills - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

To continue
into the spirit,
encourage trust.
Triumphant, the obvious words
right behind the hills - 
something strange, out there,
the way we like it. 
Personal mystery,
the mind a 
mixed world, red light distance.
What it means, a breathless warning,
heavy with the answer. 



Monday, June 22, 2015

The price we pay - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Keep your prayers - 
don't ruin this with
words, rushes of chaos
to descend upon the gravesite.
You killed
buzzing lips,
a growing sense of promise,
Convert to secrets 
a long way
from the world,
the price we pay
for all the good things.



Thursday, June 18, 2015

Baptismal - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Seeking comfort
toward the grave,
I baptised distress,
impatient ambitions.
Blessed are the dead,
the Spirit with approval I
pray, call and response
nearly howls, died unto rage,
amen. 



Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Hymnals - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Play dead.
In the sunlight,
no ordinary resurrection:
now I feel like we're
really together.
Do you?
Jeans and a leather jacket,
this oration of a hole,
chain of mourners
spins and shifts. Hell prayers,
I am the hymnals, stunned to
sympathy, dark glasses.
We join, decent,
all this grief, to wait. 



Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Arms bend back - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Reconstruction in
funeral blues
to ponder claw marks,
a kiss, his hands
a pale animal.
Small acids fragment
from her stomach,
arms bend back -
the body partially dissolved, heavy.
Transfer to the grave, freshly dug.

In the cemetery parking lot,
a faded black dress, manic,
fastened to the living.



Friday, June 12, 2015

The way in - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Bind me:
this glare refuses
meaningful exchange,
ears achieving reluctance.
I used to acknowledge evidence,
a presence of feeling.
My wrists, out there,
embedded in an insult.
You turn it upside down sometimes,
a twine diary.
Enter: the way into the room is
too bright, but no matter.
Speechless, I carry on. 



Thursday, June 11, 2015

Ceremony - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Embrace closure -
his hands, the gun,
hold on
for a beat.
Burying affection,
the good of
a bad thing
in ceremony,
leave will behind,
force wisdom
to the dead.
I don't know
how to stop,
afraid we'll
all be there together
without invitation. 



Tuesday, June 9, 2015

If you ask - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

I knew who she was.
Everybody did:

a couple questions,
a midnight violation,
bee stung lips -
a closer angle to
what you were looking for.
Syringe to her throat,
lush, a pleading beat.
So afraid,
undone.



Monday, June 8, 2015

After the funeral - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

After the funeral
white separates the high road,
mute at your door.
The body
a hard frailty,
obstructing compassion.Careful you don't murder
this moment, unsophisticated.
Assent released,
a gesture inherent
to a measure of steel. 



Friday, June 5, 2015

A roving eye - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Let me tell you
about the dream I had
last night:
you were there to be broken,
impulses high,
a code waiting to become pictures.
I was old, couldn't stand
any longre.
Suddenly, a phone call;
one-armed neurons hushed to the end.

Do you know where dreams come from?
Mid-conversation,
the morgue,
a roving eye,
the good looks we choose,
a diversity in the forebrain,
the day,
unforeseen circumstances.

Guard your devotion. 




Wednesday, June 3, 2015

A name unsure - from "Rest in pain," episode 3

Morning breaks out of her eyes,
collides with the
blushing slant in your handwriting.
You ask to leave;
under the door, a sip of approval.
Caressing the words, eager to tell,
it must mean something,
this connection.
Be careful; a name
unsure of its nature
indicates the far end of a heart,
identity close to north.