the elevator in your intuition
hasn’t settled on a level
floor by floor
juggling balance and sanity.
buttons on all floors
mashed in
flashed in
fire escape button hit
in a corner
waiting
Tag: Poem
refugee
fighting away
the urge to fight
just take a flight
find a home
made out of bricks
read about the licks
you missed
in a boat sailing away;
far away
that ain’t very fair
they made you mayor
now they call you traitor
blow your brains out with a lazer
and that wouldn’t phase her
found her drawn in crayons so i traced her
just so i can taste her
later
snakes loose
drawing blood to test
if this dimension
is habitable,
when did this glass
become so
life like.
now it is just right
the walls caved in
glass shot
a tunnel of hiss
flying box
house of balloons
personalized jack o’ lantern
your sweet song
beckons me closer;
listen to me,
don’t waste a hand on that clock
put your hands up
than down like a prayer
and rip the skin off my flesh,
carve me like the thirty first
dress me up as your favorite dream
sing that song that keeps my ears star born,
don’t stop
call my name
lay on your creation
inked archer
do you remember
when the walls went up,
the security, the safety, knowing no one will ever
get in,
until one archer
with a single arrow
sinks the wall like a rowboat
whistle and a walk
lightworker
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.
inner demons
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
1-800-555-2457
the static channel is louder today,
the musty recliner sinks deeper,
a socked foot blocks the left most side of the hushing screen,
the channel changes the static turns to picture
of a woman
selling pans
her golden curled hair flowed as she walked back and forth
just under was the number 18005552457
stainless steel and a non stick surface for a premium cooking experience
for three payments of 19.99 you can have this pan today
but if you act fast you can-
the static channel claimed her back into a loud shh,
the toe dissapears from the screen
a dial tone matches the static.
strange creature/_
between us and
her
just a little space
we can feel it
all
our bodies and yours
we can hear your heart beatin’
through us
nothin’ but star dust
paint on a brush
our universe
make a mold of your hand
on ours
little love can
go real
far.
eri
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 