Writing, Ideas, & Stories
transfused:
bleeding finger tips
over your tan washed drum kit
dragging your worship like a rotting corpse.
early on sundays to meet
before wandering eyes can undress
my wishful thinking;wishing
and put her in wolf fur.
i am sorry for missing our date
not one to do that
but
i can’t promise
that it won’t
happen again
power to the nightmare
calling Julie;
she came with a Cape
caught in a turbine
and gone
calling Julie;
just a name i read in a book
someone across the globe
reading a book
with the name Tyler.
jump jump
let the past be past
jump jump
the slam behind
is the closet for the nines
fines build
lines fluid
jump jump
the rope
jump jump
the broom
jump higher
higher flyer
on a billboard
off the closest exit
in the old closet
jump jump
the old days
his words carried further
deeper
on my way to heaven
please please please
let me hold on to
all of my
all of our memories
soaring higher than sora
to a kindom where our hearts
never die
please please please
on my
on our way to heaven
we lost.
we were barely playing,
showed up late
cussed each other out
finished strong
too not show up when it mattered most;
it’s not all you
i know the ball could have been better
not perfect, just better
we were never perfect
just humans
showing up each game
playing for our lives
i didn’t believe;
the wind would come
whisper in italics
just to follow the whispering scent-
to follow —
to follow —
to follow ——-
to let the wind carry you
without the worry
worry rocked the boat
sent lifeless butterfly stroke
to the bottom of the creak;
sleep sleep sleep
little baby
rockaway
trot away
fuck away
little far away down the stream
lifeless cocoon
and an oar.
you’ll lead the way
will follow;
protector of man-
the earth below her feet; she worships
the ones you will not meet; she notice
electric fingers twirls the air like string
earth given powers, meant as a sign
to bring forth the daily wonder
we walk on without regard;
her gentle roars keeps the power safe,
fangs bear the wicked and worsen-
a tiger guardian, a lightworker.
today; she works as a electrician
bringing light
to those ready.
i created you
i.
like god with an atom
a sorcerer with a spell
a scientist with the elements
i gave you purpose;
with the swish of ink
with the words of centuries before, with the graceful eyes in my skill, and the hands dished from the pot of decades of molding-
this
is
mine.
it sleeps in my head
dodging bullets made of lead
we carry that blood,
but i gave you life-
your sluggish steps in my inner chambers
rattle while i rest
when you’re most upbeat
i am
down
the worst villian
but always strikes clean,
unforgiving
persistant and held by two arms.
time sweeps through open and closed windows
self imposed –
own will justice
with no checks and balance.
time is god.
Saint's Muse 