Chroma Snow Blossom

Chroma Snow Blossom

A snowbound mountain
Painted on a canvas
Of white trees and
Indigo ice
Against
Zodiac pyrites

Deep dream
Chromashifting

Down the slopes
Black rocks
And white snow with
Waves of
Staining color
Rushing down

Mountain
Colorsufing

Like how debasers tailor
Snowflake cells
Distorting them
Metamorphosis
Blossom in this
Snow pollen’s fell

Snowflake’s
Feathery wings

The marring blossom
Colors infecting
In orange and blue
And pink and green
Arms of ice
In symmetry

Deep dream
Chromashifting

Overgrown

Overgrown

On the roofs of houses
In a suburb
A mossy overgrown
Sentimental pipeline

Crossing from
Home to home
Shoots with the
Arrow of time

Christmas lights
And tiny fir trees
Fortresses, bastions,
And snowy top days

Moss is the turret
On a tower of a home
Ropes like rigging are
Beacons polychrome

Cast magic like
You read it
In ancient
Spell tomes

Snowflakes drifting down
Polychroma sound

Lights like the beacons
Of spotlights shining
Clouds like the puffy flak
Of a cold morning

Moss on the shingles of
A cozy little house
Glittery tinseling
Glowing like magma

Chilly air like egg nog
In a glass on a table
Broiled breath in the air
Vapor everywhere

Kitchen Sink Reserve Red Table Wine

Kitchen Sink Reserve Red Table Wine

Bitter
Tart

Blood colored
Like hints of
Lachance’s flayed
Corpse, betrayed

European
Dragon’s breath

A dirtlike grape burn

That throattorching
Sour
Dry
Sulfuric
Swells from the
Base of the spine
And kicks hard

Fire and ash
In the mouth
Leftover
As aftertaste

Tankgewehr

Tankgewehr

A bipod resting
On a low wall

A bolt action
Opened with a
Meaty metal
Jangle

A single
.525 caliber
Cartridge

Loaded in
With a sliding
Schwing against
Soldering

A curved
Plate
Locking back
Into place
With a lift
And push
Back to bolt
The round

A stamped
And casted ingot
Of power
Loaded

Sighting down
A barrel
Unscoped

Trigger pulled

A deafening
Heavy ore
Thud

A shockwave
Of recoil
Shoving a
Shoulder
And stormcalling
Forward

Anti-material

Metal leaves
Disintegrating
In muzzle blast

A savage tank hunted
By
The lower caste

While You Were Touching The Second Blackening Sea

While You Were Touching The Second Blackening Sea

A research team
At headquarters

In the operating room
On comm lines

Setting the stage
For a rocket’s take off

White coats running around
Files and phones in hand

Glasses pushed up to
The bridge of the nose

A cosmonaut strapped in
To a frame

An explorer of the galaxy

Solar sails lift
Jets burst

Upwards the chemtrails follow
Spilling smokey energy

To the stars
All the wonders zip by

Still in contact with
Headquarters

Picture the supernovas
The craft passes by

Imagine the
Mother of Invention

Immortalized

Asteroid belts pelting the
Shields

Purple cosmic glows
Of infinite zodiac lights

Planets of all kinds
Rings and ice worlds

Stars dotting the expanse
Of forever grasp

Lit like lamps laying
Lazily on their sides

The touch of the heat
In the palm of your hand

A celestial giant lost
To wander in no where

The touch of a human
A voyager on patrol

Solar sails hexagon up
Like honeycomb

When we’re out among
The glowing sea

Of blackening
Forever

A giant reaches
A giant touches

Those things that seem
So small so far away

Force the arms through
The cold space winds

Vaccum dust
Quantum atoms influx

Spitfire nebula out the
Left window

Dark matter engines
Who even knows how to work

Forever immersed
In that blackening sea

A consuming shadow
That takes travellers

Lost to wonder like a
Lovecraftian character

Mad, but happy
Crazy and zen

Then again there’s no
Going back home

Comm’s shut down
Long ago

Where’s next?
We drift with

The waves to take
And blacken

As a second coming
Of absolute nothing.

Something’s gone
Like the missing

Sense of songbirds
On a spring day

There’s dust on the
Consoles of a

Spaceship far out in
The ocean

A night flight with
The golden dust of

Far away astrohomes
Leaving behind the

World once known
To drift and see

Endlessly in this
Second

Kinesthetically there
Blackening sea.

I’m Scared

I’m Scared

That I see my life as a movie
And that I’m not my own
Protagonist

And I’m only a supporting
Character to so many
Other people

Just a face
A background
An extra
To my own story

And my own stories
I tell because no one
Else will ever tell me
As anything important

It’s gotta be me
Saying out loud
All the things I think
Are cool and worth

Debating
Myself and my own values
Every day
When I wake up and think

“What in the world
Can I do today?”

Because that answer
Is frighteningly nothing

Just to keep going

I’m scared I just keep going
And am not doing as much
As I could be

Not that anyone
Would tell me

New Blood

New Blood

Remember when

As I sit in
A grizzled basement

All the wounds
Taken in
On a new voyage

A safari
Some new scarring

A needle and wire
Like those of a
Splatter mask
Now in use to bind

The ties of a wound
On the flesh
With metal mingling
And comforting
To let rest

Let the stitches nurture
The things sustained
From nature

Quick with the
Memories of bullets
Ripping through
In every caliber

It hurts

Crossing wires
In the skin
Like a wicker basket

Even with all the
Bitter liquor you think
Quicker to pour on it

It burns

When the surgery
Is done

Now left is just a scar
To remember every millimeter
Of wounds that scored through

And tore exiting like new
Scars were being formed
As soon as the wounds came

All the blood I was losing
All those transfusions

Every millimeter of flesh
And metal mixed together then
Still shocks now when

The needle enters and exits
As rusty cheap mechanical
Wire brings back
My flesh together

Cutting the wire
At the end

Letting the pliers and
Wire cutters clatter
To the concrete ground
Of a blood-splattered
Basement

Sitting back under the
Silver lights

Remembering when

I drank wine that
One morning before
We ventured inland
And feeling it
Burn my throat

Millimeters
Of wire
Millimeters
Of fire

And the desire
To remember when

Throattorchers

Throattorchers

A box
A breath
A quiet murmur
A panicked yell

When we forget these
Words are also said
In heaven and hell

Nothing seems to be
As what it is until
You speak the words
Any words to change

The scene

Next act in the play
Another chapter in a book
Words all change the thing
The time, the space

Anything you taste ends
When there is no more

Wine, tea, coffee,

There’s only no more words
If you stop tasting them
On the tip of your tongue
And coating your mouth

All the hot breath and
Tart tastes are for nothing
If you just quit

All the horrible words
Are only horrible if
You stop saying them

No good words are recognized
If you don’t ever tell
Them they are

No fear is so quenched
As the fear of running out
Of literary delights

Food to the fire
Tastes for all to
Acquire when they
Comminucate or wait

For the next scene to change
When all along
It was the words always
Laying in wait

To be consumed
To be taken in
Understood

Some starve and some die
When their buffet ends
And the words no longer
Leave their mouths
Often like breath

No one knows what it’s
Like
Not until the tartness
Ends

Its balance of sour
Sweet
Savory
And sense in between

The experience
Of living

No one knows until
They run out

Everybody Else

Everybody Else

Everyone else
I used to know

Some fond faces
I don’t know
If I’ll see
Again

Some cut ties
Some hate or lies
Among other things

Deciding the reason
Excisions were keeping
Webs of networks apart

Pacified egos
Starving the soul
And depriving
Even simple things

Like a throat
To speak with

Everyone else
I don’t think about

Everyone else
Has a life, too

All the people
I’ve forgotten
And the names
I haven’t seemed

To somehow let
Cross my mind

Twidling my thumbs
On the new smartphone

Cutting ties
Doesn’t satisfy
Anything
Useful

Starving the soul
Feeding the ego
An echo chamber

Re-established
With a new throat

Time to sit down
On a stool in a
Dim room
And nurse the wounds

Pride
Ego
Confidence
Sanctity

What rules?

Everyone else
Doesn’t seem to
Have a throat

So how do we grow?

Are the things we
Say all illusory?

I wish I could say
But I can’t
Because
I have no known
Throat

I’m silent in the
Basement
Stitching up the holes

I’m sitting on a stool
Staring at new blood

This epiphany

It’s time to reestablish
With everybody else

Feed the soul
Starve the ego

Let join the two grafts
Of self and unself

Let the new blood scar