We thwart not the sun or the moon, the movement of planets, the coming of rains or drought. We neither thwart our birth nor death. We try to thwart what our hearts feel And the desires with which it plagues us, But our hearts feel and desire still. Even our tears cannot be thwarted-- though they may not fall, the tears fall unseen.
Lightning cracked the sky today
Very nearly tethering Desire and Want,
Who entwined, rolling from edge
To edge of the horizon—
And I walked,
Thinking I’d make it home
Before pelting rain could chill
My heated sweating skin.
But I did not.
Clothes soaking,
Wet through—
I made it home,
Trailing water drops
Down the hall.
Finally, dry and warmed,
Dressed in fresh clothes,
I looked outside
To find a pink sky,
With clouds tethered
To the earth like me.
Its flow
From the tip of my fountain pen—
Not smooth enough–
Fails capturing anything
Within this labyrinth of senses
Now alive
Restless roses
climb skyward
toward the eternal
their grace defeated
as winds thrust
them downward
toward dirt
they escape.
angels call, singing for a while,
watching us,
aping things they’d heard, saw,
obsessing over things
we tossed away–
time, primarily–
angels lost feathers, attempting to understand
our tossing away time like used tissues, soiled food tins–
when we held little.
Factions of the past
Still here–
The many monsters,
Gods and Goddesses all,
Worshiped and created
By a thousand wars
Humanity fought
Against itself
And fights still
Against the poisons
Standing on the battlements
Within humanity’s own
Bloodied heart.
The languid time of evening
Comes in flames,
Searching horizons
In their lazy, twisting way
For truths and hearts.
Forever searching
For another flaming heart
To serve as a twin
As if that could be found
In such languid searching
In slowing time
Between sunset and sunrise,
Each a prize of flame,
never finding another flaming heart.
Emptied vault opens,
casts leavings of shriveled seeds
beyond redemption.
Between the edges
nothing could penetrate here,
wind, rain, tears—nothing.
Sound had no life here,
dying in small deaths of emptiness,
eternal silence.
A life damaged beyond
repair, encased by cold stone,
a life of shriveled seeds,
lived in a stone vault—
lightless, soundless
thirsting.
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/10/24/weekend-writing-prompt-180-vault/#comments
Lucidity picks at the chains wrapped round a soul
Anchored to the ground of fears bought whole
In the marketplace while traipsing through dreams
Resplendent with beauty and flights of fanciful imaginings
That harsh noisy words and bruising blows etched,
Tattooed lucid fears.
I take the truth
for it is mine,
rolling myself in it until
protected from the acid of the asinine
that drips from the pens, the tongues
of many and power,
of those we call elite,
of those we once called—
friends.
I grieve the words spoken
by asinine tongues
and actions taken
by hate filled hearts
that do not comprehend the words
we were taught—
“love your neighbor as yourself”—
The second commandment.
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