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Muted Liltmay nights brew black
on calloused retinas

I crush three shades of dissent
out of the rubble (aftermath)
on a film of labile skin

encapsulated winter shadows
patterned bruises by ghosts in ink
root-bound dead whisperings:

december's late memory

Pseudo-Taoistic Tendencieshere, to live in obsolete measurements of stasis
and find solace in the way time bends in sweet detriment of itself

to listen, enlivened
by the sound of ten thousand and one parched Persian tongues
rasping of emancipation
from the underbellies of our mirrored faunas

where the universe is felt
and God is swallowed:

on her salted fountains
on his derelict fingers tracing unadorned love
on another woman's hipbones

an elephant's dying breath, and
the smell of climax and unsettled wombs

felt, and tasted:

in hospital tubes
indignation, self-sufficiency
failure of recognition

the partisans of our cause and command

In my bathroom againGod's in my bathroom again,

he's shaving the patches of his
beard and pulling clown-faces
at the soap. Last night

he held me as I lay in a fever,
made little screams, kept
the hot tongues from my face,
the mushrooms from my
spine.

He says his old girlfriend
tried to drink his blood, that
it messed him up
for a while. He says
it's been a long time.

God looks sad, jingling his
teeth at me like loose
change. The clicks of my
heart make me sick;
folding his pyjamas

would be
the kind thing
to do.

Leaving Home (Video)A little video I made for one my songs, I hope you enjoy!

upon leaving edensend me far away to where
the sun shines silver like broken
mirrors and wild things wander
through the night; places with
funny names and maps etched
from tree bark & lichened stones
that line up end to end for miles:

where truth is a birthmark that
scars us by, upon the coast
glass of wine- toast to the rising
moon sublime. dreams are in third
person, cupped by the creak of
wild woods that whistle, and teach
us what it means to be alive.

come, nestle up against cedared
fantasy & watch the birds fly south
for the winter, hoping for something
other than white sand & buried treasure.
save all our tragic souls from becoming
what we should

Achromatic Dreamstoday, god gave me present.

-
i.

stilted windows, white bones
decaying lungs and my mind races
at the rate of a lone moth's jaded wings

we taste better alone

ii.

clemency is earned
by the damned, by the damned
arbitrary sacrifices

we belong to nobody

iii.

and she bowed with artless grace
kissed the sky, shed stardust tears
choked on angelic moonshine

we draw our own constellations
-

today, i gave god presence.

Bereaved Orphanto the ugliest part of my barring psyche:
hello, beautiful.

i submit myself to you, in absolute austerity, i
present myself in all my inelegance and liability.

see: black and white, every indifference to
chromaticity the way we see naked stars at night, the way
we lose ourselves to drinking in false favor of
fanaticism and relativism, and

this is a venal apology, my
selfish justification for liberating you against your
detrimental and tragic will, my
baseless excuse for your existing inexistence, as

i bleed desperation onto these languid walls, with
the need to isolate the physical foundation of where
you are fashioned

on essencebut first, kiss my dopamine--

rest your untiring hands on this swelled belly: feel me
as i swallow oceans whole enough
to condensate these north pacific skies, and accept
petrichor’s last offering.

so kindly are these breaths
left to lay rest
on the beds of noetic trees, let us watch
as they breathe,
let us watch as they breathe;

tasting the oxygen
swirling at the back of our throats:
life.

i love how simply the lull of your voice
bathes me in laconic moonlight
how this longing slows time two degrees below
the sixth of listening to mountains grow

pieced is this slow-beating
apologetic metronome, teethed and
sweetheart these
were

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the poem i never wrotei’ve got four fingers on each hand
to count and recount the carnal instinct of familiarity.

i have kissed you out of the liveliness of the moon
and her returning blanket of sea, like the softness & quietude

of your eyelid’s atlantic flutter. like the blue dream of sky
that extends the cover of your vagrant esteem. your heart,

gypsy to the cadence of likeness domestic of catholic balance
gingerly, ever able and oh so nomadic

extends the voice of its beat as small as the world
and as vast as our amalgamated essentiality. sunly

is you by which i am reborn, and time fails us
where the aim of waking is to dream.

i’ve got

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golden hourby *UnspecifiedUnknown

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^{and quiet days}

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Submitted on: July 20, 2012
Image Size: 904 KB
Resolution: 2816×1880

Views: 270
Favourites: 16 (who?)
Comments: 16
Downloads: 6

Camera Data

Make: Canon
Model: Canon EOS DIGITAL REBEL XS
Shutter Speed: 1/197 second
Aperture: F/10.0
Focal Length: 55 mm
ISO Speed: 200
Date Taken: July 14, 2012
Lens: EF-S18-55mm f/3.5-5.6
Sensor Size: 22mm

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=slowslicksnails Mar 24, 2013 Student Writer

Beautiful capture. The color of the sea& sky is just perfect. Love the silhouette.

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~silverwing-sparrow Nov 30, 2012 Photographer

Hi! It was featured here [link]

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*UnspecifiedUnknown Dec 11, 2012 Writer

^humbled

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~breathingglassstars Aug 11, 2012 Writer

_{this is gorgeous.}

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*UnspecifiedUnknown Aug 12, 2012 Writer

^{thank you}

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~jas08 Jul 25, 2012

Very chromatic, the water almost looks like it is a negative or made of blue tinged mercury. Your silhouette contrasts this quite beautifully and draws the eye.

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*UnspecifiedUnknown Jul 25, 2012 Writer

^{crazy thing is, this hasn't even been edited. i was quite pleased with how it turned out.
thank you}

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~jas08 Jul 27, 2012

Most welcome.

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*archelyxs Jul 22, 2012

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*UnspecifiedUnknown Jul 22, 2012 Writer

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