Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Outside the prismatic spire, our domain of dreams, unconstrained, settles, freedom, sifted in fragments through the brume resounds, a dolorous note earth-bound, your perdition is one of night and shadow, the morning’s flame, having spent itself   before our time, nourishes the soil you, as Alice to her rabbit, into a warren, out of sight,…

Dogma, unyielding, manifests, a scarlet letter leveraged down, from the pulpit, in the schoolyard, through the radio on the mantle by his dining room table history, white-washed, forms a circle, the red-caps, filling the streets, nail hope to a tree and claim God exists within our tears my words, overlooked, escape the pyre, your body,…

Touchstone, your soul, unconstrained, breathes out, a tempest in the twilight, sweeping the dunes, across the salt-flats, close to you my anger, impotent, turns upon its head, my mind, laid down to its grooves on the left-hand side of our bed, by your side, turns over, aphotic your soul, constrained, strains against itself, another fragment,…

Madness, a beacon, subsumed. masters the brume, a songbird, ensnared, plies forth its melody, no less than you or I atop the rooftop garden at the corner of Stanyon and Hayes stain-glass, a sacrament, reflects to us what others already believe to be, your legacy, etched indelibly upon my prison wall, even now, brings me…

Wisdom, world-worn, visits our café, youth, a blanket, informs that which you perceive to be the world, the world, unfolding, expands along the edge of light, the transcorporeality of sorrow inspires in you, an expansion of the mind to better mirror that which your soul knows to be ennui, premature, gives way, a plane, compounding,…

Silence, constrained, swallows a star, you, resolute, deny yourself the lyricality of sorrow, a frame in the dark affirms our fate such a fate, anathematic to life, spun itself, a chromosomal chain behind your navel, bell sworn, a charter, affirms that which we knew to be that I could not change or remedy affirmation unwoven,…

Doctor, your mask askew, the perennial nature of your craft laid down in the poppy dens, between streetlamps, before the vermilion crosshatch affixing our door Death, a chapter closed, settled in your lungs, your legacy, blooming, gives of itself freely, a posy, a remedy, pinned to black, keeps vigil over your memory, the red-caps, filling…

Keeper of the bells, you to whom the shadows sing, displaced, hold a candle to a star that which was recorded, manifests again, displaced, atop the glacial stair moonlight, a vow, marks itself, a promise, wrought together upon your finger

Anathematic, imagination, unbound, cauterizes my sorrow a poem, misshapen, gives voice to the silence you, exalted for your dogma, squander what could be for traditions sake you, sharp eyed in the twilight, return to dust having accomplished nothing