Deep, diva pine needles scream for peace
among our hallowed ground and hollow days
that memory stays with me, at least
too deep to not have pierced or raised
a little sunshine from the rattle
of a sleep that lay the cattle out in rows
behind the cornfields where a fever grows
in rocks and rains and miserable photographs
of graves without a name - not even markers.

Even darker, yet and still I sweat the freeze
that chips the dead leaves in the trees
that line our gardens, hedge the wreaths
that follow suit along the soot, sublime.
Pollute divine dimensions... I recall the
tickling tension eating, reeling -
really just a madness stealing hours,
breaking glasses, glass and roses...
oh, those flowers.

October, slower seasons may have entered
but the winter was a quicker devil. Hell
won't stand at its low level, reveling
the thoughts of heavens, death and engines
squealing at the thought of this night
never ending. I am blending with the
shyness of a light so blind I rest quite
restlessly against its tone - a light
that might as well be white as bone.
The white, salt beaches, never to be shown
unto the likes, like us, and thus
one night in an October
hell got up as we got over.

Popping pills and walking hills,
reminded me of all those still shot
masterpiece wreaths rested the vestibules
just west our presence...
pot for thrills. And booze to cruise
a forest feeding off the stench
of bench-stretched demons,
up for days to raise the hell
we knew so well.

Blood is ink signed out for god, the line
it's signed on, bleak and odd.
So late one night, against the blazing
recycling center, we got crazy -
slit our souls and bled like babies
in a darkness laced with daisies.
The rest, at best, would be too hazy
to relate, then, either way.
I'd like to say, though, the next day
that one devil thought he might stay.

The Visit

You visited many times.
I could not say it was sublime.
The powder that left furrows shallow,
Seen for dead, stark white, not hallowed.
The name, forgotten, and ignored.
Upstairs, he sleeps for you, he snores.

Raine Les 1/21/2010

I hope you will forgive,
This notion strikes,
For me it bled.
Equivocal from my perception
Tremendous from your brief inception.

You draw from me, a deep place that I do not ever want to grow callous.
Thank you

Fabulous write!!!! You never fail to amaze me.

Your comparisons are always unexpected and visually stunning...please take a bow

Fantastic write yet again. Each line flowed into the next line very well, and the imagery, yet again the imagery. I stand in awe, mate. Cheers.

yep, yep....amazing (((C)))

I was mesmerized. I tend to read your work slowly and get lost in it, great.