Sunday, December 6, 2015
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
What are stripes to earn, when the stripes are black?
Placate cruelty in man's fingertips
This paroxysm, an effort of his
Man sees the dirt and his feet become paws
Man eats the plant, and with his teeth, he gnaws
These structures built to collapse look much like fangs
His pupils of sorrow, why yesterday?
He asks: why a beast in this shadowed land?
Finding ground on a shore of cloud-like sand
His head not in the sand, nor in the clouds
He is a tiger, identity found
Friday, November 6, 2015
crude lines were made. but i don't trust the way i fill the space. and i don't trust the way you spill the ink. for space is pure amid our vanity. true eyes are a wade. composure beyond zephyr sway. let tides crash up until your knees. let the sky's tears change what you see. nothing stayed the same. pure eyes lost to a harlot's gaze. how is one able to love the world? how can one love such crude lines?
Thursday, October 29, 2015
I gave my left to the moon
and we made our vows,
accepting this void
I gave my right to the sun
forgetting this void
I gave my hands to the sky
and in this union,
this is our parting
Looking back on that love,
I was one with the day, so I thought
when truly, I was one with the night
at 3:15 PM