PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Do you feel alive in your skin?
Will you throw it all to the wind?
Every time we die we trace our faces to figures of youth

In your mind you memorize and realize
Just how trapped you are
In your cities of steam
On cobblestone streets
Your backwards motion
You shiver and whine

A lizards kiss
Feet soaked in sweet kerosene and glue
I forgave you
Shouted illusions through shattered glass

Old eyes lay heavy in your skeleton skull
Sunken treasure bones
Tight wrapped skin, teeth in your cheeks
With your tree branch guns
You crumble back
To the chatter of birds blue
Wound in your freedom shell
Screaming baby
You frightened ghost

Ugly you promise
Disappearing in the half light
Your connections pale warm
The old countries water
Your drink her lake

Oh stone
You taught me of girls and gods,
Both being the same weapon
Of lust and it’s lonely heart
Now I dig you up from the dust
Panting in wild heat

Yellow stained houses
Drift back over dead flowers
In fields and fevers
Your death tunes moan
Itching to sleep in silence
For finding you wouldn’t bring you back home

At the end women cry in splinters
Loud talk in gardens, singing
Growing with the vines and black insect kings
Tiny villages of infant voices
We panic
And follow the few left to our rotting desires
Tomorrow’s just a vision from an old man’s tongue
A hat trick
Your last chance to throw it all back
A graveyard dance
To the storms, to the wind
Back to the roots of birth

Counting moons on sand and silk
Speaking soft in thunder
Blood swirls up
Dizzy, we push back