catharsis begun

Fetus Hand Poetry

The days have expired
if I was once a shadow
now I am smoke
tomorrow?
perhaps the empty pause
between two despairs
the sky is black tar
my distant vault
stained by the vapor
of every perspired minute
I made my hands cups
the recipients of beauty
but it would not rain
clear skies with
excess of stars
dizzied by this overhead
backdrop
I made up posthumous names
for my fetus hands

tomorrow?

a lie
a song
a purposeless
flight.

 


 
modern poetry

in an abandoned city

This is the first step
into a wide open world
the toes stepping on frosty ledges
in an abandoned city
with closed eyes everything is ownerless
then the wispy breeze
then the last leaf of the last tree
then your hand in your inside pocket
hopelessly seeking the tobacco pipe
and the curled tobacco tatters
that will accompany you through
the long twisted journey of smoke and ash;
and while this can be a dream
another broken dimension of subjectivity
you can still feel the rubber of the shoe
stepping on the frigid pavement without cars
the shadows of street signs
wrapping around angles and grayness
as the horizon grows dim with sudden silence
the eyes watery, glorious, unbelieving
of the eternity of being lost and free
in an abandoned city
hidden somehow
in a wide open world.

nihilistic poetry