Shared Space

Let me taste the goodness leaking from your eyes I want to realize what it means to love an angel The golden light obscures me I feel my evil showing it leaks between the cracks in my holy armor I want to be perfect I want to be flawless I want to be honest I’ll end up nothing I can see your angel it looks like a flower it eats up your energy and leaves you tired You’re laying there now you are sleeping through the hours you’re eyes are like shadows your angel’s growing larger you can’t get up no more you can’t seem to speak  and I try to wake you up but you look so weak I’ve got to give you something I feed you all my sunshine I can’t stand to see you this way please have what’s left of me

In the grand mountains  I stare up at the stars and I can see the forests calling me the fog hangs over far the misty clouds are moving in from every vanish point I am thinking of the beauty that our powers do anoint  The everglade walkways  beneath the sulking moon are shimmering with fireflies a verdant world in bloom and I can walk among these vales of green and hope my children see but there’s gloom under the valley through the vines between the trees There’s a chapel in a metal land with titans of iron and fear threatening the peaceful world that everyone holds dear I can linger all I want between the bushes on the hill but the whitest hill of all is calling fire from its will I want to share my mountains and my trees and my land it’s vast and expansive and there’s enough for every man but the greedy dogs on their granite crags do sit with watching eyes and they command the people to hate and they command them to abide But I don’t see any fences and I don’t see any walls And I won’t refuse any man from walking down my halls and I’ll never tell another that he may not have what I do if there’s enough for me then there’s plenty enough for you As long as any are not free than I cannot be free, I will not take my freedom if someone else must bay the fee I will stand between these mountains and I will not let you pass with your hammers or your sickles or your fragile hearts of glass

A schoolboy in a baseball cap tugs the front of his shirt sweat drips into his lap the sun is merciless It is the objective King, the mother of the Earth. It’s anger will destroy, it has the hands of Yaweh. It has the eyes of Allah. On the playground, obscured by the waves of heat drifting from the black pavement Dark shapes churn  Fly down slides. Blooming in the gut, the suburban horror. (Jesus deliver me from pain) (Weaken the Sun) The sky turns orange then deep blood red. The sun will expand (he thinks) it will cover the Earth. We will be one with the star, empty and dark and cold. Cold. It grows black, the sky. The tent behind is glowing  with artificial suns, (We really believe we can play God). Pushed by misunderstood forces, a tragic approach across the black top. (look, he’s playing with the other boys) His shirt is dangling about him like a veil he is so thin so thin and so small. He feels tiny, next to the bigger peoples. He believes when he grows older, he will feel less tiny, and he is wrong. (Hey look who it is) begins the other God the collective enterprise of jeering and sneering children, the subjective King. The eyes of Yaweh. The hands of Allah. They are not separate things, they are one black shape. They are red eyes, and sharp teeth.  In memory, they have faces, but now they are eyes red and teeth sharp. The sun is gone, it is black night. The sun, it protected It wore a badge. They could see in the sun. At the tent wine is sipped from floating glasses they bathe in their light like rich men in Gold. His hat is stolen first, then the name is called out to him, (Mutie) because he is afraid to speak. (Marky the mutie)  is snarled. There is a certain freedom in darkness. The Objective King does not watch we are concealed and the moon is a great keeper of secrets. It is that night, he learns, he can do anything in the dark. It is that night, he decides, he is a creature of dark. The moon is the Chosen King The Hands of Jesus The Eyes of Jesus.

Once there was a seagull perched upon a hill in the misty fog of morning A shadow on the gray air above the blue earth swirling and burbling shifting like the cosmic tide It’s eyes were beacons of yellow light it’s wings were burning it’s beak was a moonbeam “Captain Waller!” cried the squire, “Is it God?” The boat meandered on the tide. Waller searched the horizon His eyes were narrow “God would not appear  in a form so unassuming, God would be a flash of lightning on the summer sea.” They turned from the seagull. And drifted into the morning.

I can’t go on being the same person I was a day ago. I can’t go on with this version I already know I’ve got to bust open and break out or leak out like a germ. I’ve got to multiply and infect some world and build a structure in a heart I’ve got to not be the person I’ve been even if I won’t be that person’s friend.

Her megaphone chants drown my sculpted voice I go down in a heap thinking, “What’s the use,” Looking like abuse Her megaphone chants drown the discussion at least her voice is as pretty as she is.

I found her on the cliffside sitting on a branch that dangled loose   from the sheer wall. She looked up at me and grinned, invited me down I attempted to reach her, but fell. She laughed as I cascaded, as I was impacted with the earth, and I and the dirt became one. Then I was the earth, and I reached up with a God’s hand, let her rest in my palm. I brought her down, she put her feet against me, Stood on me. I produced the fruits of my nature I gave to her my avatar the one of flesh, who grew out the ground. The universe was great and wide, I could see it all as it was truth. But I looked at her, and though she was so small, she was a truth all her own, and I needed her truth, not the truth of a billion stars I could not reach.

I’m at the peak of this mountain this of smoke and ash It was spoken,  “I am alone, Come save me,” and I did not move from my perch. I could have had it, but I did not believe I wanted it then. I am on this mountain. It is made of smoke and ash. I could fall straight through, down to the earth. What holds me there at it’s peak, I do not know. But there I stand in my cloak of colors, and I say to thee, “I want to be down there, but I cannot find my way.” You take my hand, you don’t ask twice. I’m filled with sadness.

ask me to make your decisions for you. There is wisdom, I know, in not deciding. But there is no bravery. In the end, a mask will do for a face.

I don’t wake up and say to you, today I shall steal a heart. I don’t wake up and parlay with the wind and paint messages in the sky to trace to a destination where I lay, a waste of good relation. I don’t feed the badgers honey, and I don’t buy the leaves rings. I am for you a  consequence. Your remorse bites my neck and leaves on me the mark of cain. 

Down under the sewer head shoved like a rat in the dark built with bones and iodine a master of his domain, the king of queens and the ace of hearts. A fasting wandering Jewish man with a beard as long and grey as the mountain side. His vicious eyes follow you hungry, like a lecher. I longed for the woman  who did not long for me She’ll come back to pick me up just you wait and see. When your head has gone to sleep but your body is ticking on and on you can call me, I swear I’ll give you an hour or two talk to me, honest say truth things don’t forbid your tongue from clicking, you can’t  get nowhere like that. Somehow the light seemed to find me even here, in the deepest darkest tomb in the room with no cracks in the walls under a solid block of led with no holes, and inside a coffin  made of solid steel, even there there is light. Inescapable. I was young too, once some might say I’m still But really I’m an old croon could have wrinkles on my nose could have lived a thousand years I’m a hermit from under the hill where the moss grows and the air is sweaty, and I’m covered in weeds. I think to myself when I see an old man, If I could trace a path that was your life, where would it lead, and what would we see walking ‘long it? Awaken me, fine girl. Make me whole again, I need to see your world I need to feel your soul pressed up against me, only then can I live again.