contemporary poetry

Splintered eyelid- gem of sleep, crude
Imaginings, sentient lump- trail of
Unkempt sorrow and storm biding
By moon of sheen and starlight, creed-
Emporium of white-washed scales and
Skeins, lithely brushing dints and dreams
That cruelly fade and frown to gleams,
Heaven’s nymph of sprayed glint-
And this sickness pervades my being
Like folly to thick wings- spread out
And in as thought to whim, gnarled
Bent like holy finish-
Holy Ghost phantasies, stretched taut
And timbered- siphoned drawl in
Swift unfurl- gashes deepening hold-
Scepter glimmer, snaked frisk-
Loose and lucid droop that frills.

No shouting
please
I toss the roots
into the pit
of winter
watching
how slowly our hands
tangle
in sheets and dreams
of migration
this little pill
in the center of the eye
listen:
there are intruders
everywhere
when you live outside
skin and bone
and memory of struggle
kicked – shouting
I can take it,
what else you got?
But there is no one around
3 a.m.
a cold park bench
and a prayer
just about to die out on your lips
I could have been a pretender,
I could have loved you
in a way that you would have found hard to believe,
imperfectly potent,
singular, single-handedly.
Unafraid.