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Mother What Have You Done?

1 Oct

You crouched behind a rock

Holding the first one

An egg cradled

In your armor

Your amour

The second one was stronger

More like you

Independent, instinctually intelligent

You placed

The third one in his arms when

You thought

It died

For you

Mother, why

Set me to float away

On this dream of love

I’m still alive

It says downstream

With the voice of a man

Exactly

But he doesn’t want to leave

Just yet

No one really does

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Chapter 3 – The Silver Flute, Pt. 3

28 Sep

The confrontation. In her breathless trance I feel that I am becoming a shadow on the wall. I am volumizing – my insides fading out, while my body remains solid and a melody still flowing from her fingers. I open my eyes and exclaim, I felt myself disappearing! The person at my side laughs as if I am making a joke. She recites this poem to me:

The ceremony

Begins

As I gather supplies

For my journey

Over my shoulder

A flute made of silver

To guide me

And serve as protector

Led by the moon

Are my feet marching on

My eyes absorb her brightness

Mindless

Of my destination

Once there

We have a seat and play

The walls surround

Catch sound

Sending it every way and upward

Lovers swoon

At my sorrowful tune

While still others seem disturbed

Until finally I am desserted

Left alone to play a wind song for the birds of

Night and you

Have come to join me

I found her in a pool of her own blood. A bullet through her brain. Another drive-by shooting? Perhaps. Kids these days are so paranoid they probably thought she was planning to open fire with a small silver cannon. Anyway, no one saw the tire tracks inside the court until Dawn arrived and pointed them out to us. She had a special interest in the case. We at the precinct found her forte in seemingly meaningless crimes and especially murder, well – exploitable. I had to grin when I realized the pun I’d made in connection with the blood spattered sheet music spread all around the girl. It seemed she wouldn’t be around for a second refrain. I was just trying to make out some notes when Dawn explained the tracks were that of a motorcycle driven by a heavy set man in his early thirties. She had determined all of this from the width and pattern of the tire tracks – nothing more. It was the conservative, yet seasoned way he made his way around the small court that had her convinced the man who murdered this small, now silent angel was no kid.

Chapter 3 – Yes

26 Sep

We have kissed

Connected, killed

Affectionately

Dowsed and drown

Suspicion

A scorpion underfoot

Chapter 3 – The Subject of Our Conversation

26 Sep

Drifted

From planes of reality to

The extent of our imaginations

Defining each other

Sounding off – sharing

We found ourselves

Searching, strolling

Sometimes staggering

On a path of similar direction

For now, he is no stranger

The ink we spill so

Selfish

Insatiable is my song

However imperfect the pitch

Our words – how ever permanent

Soon fade

Just as distance provokes a shout

And mountains mimic us in echo

I heard you as you spoke

Of tomorrow’s memories

Chapter 3 – The Sweetest Satire

26 Sep

Flora

The fawn of devilish childish

Absolut-shunn(ed)

I’ll not return to this

Demolition

Alas, I am at the mercy

Of my own hand

Having removed myself from the game

Ignoble in my cause

Now facing defeat, I give in

Conspicuous shudders of revolt

They’ll not shut me down

Not to sufferance nor shame

They’ll never make me sleep

I shall sever such sadism with

The sweetest satire

Chapter 3 – A Mystery

21 Sep

It’s a mystery

How we came to be

And why

I’m wearing his clothes

To bed

Come and see me

You are leaving

Come and see me

We were driving

Side to side

Giving me the eye, he was

And I

I was moving my lips

To a song. He thought

I wanted a kiss

All I wanted was a drag

Off his sexy cigarette

Chapter 3 – In Sanctuary

21 Sep

Prophetic, probation(ary)

Backyard pools drown children

Pull virtuosity

Down below

Comfort treads water

In fathomful minds

Suffocating under pillows

Passion gasps! Then sighs

A last procession follows

Cotton fields smother

Aphids in action

She smiles as you slide

Safe? Yielding?

Among sheets of white gold

Spun as snowflakes on windy wings

Lost in found(ness)

Roofings fulfill houses (un)abound in satisfaction

Semi-saturated

Sexuality-solidarity

Deception grins at your death

Sold are your silver desires

Your life is not yours

In sanity or

In sanctuary

You simply survive

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