A land unbound
shudders beneath the grandfather storm,
breathing, gasping,
choking
on tears that are its own.
A land unbound
drowned its voice in the first mighty flood,
now it nudges,
reaches, yearns
to find its departed sky.
A land unbound
cannot abide the feet of men that leave scars
twisting, burning,
breaching,
searing its uncharted skin.
A land unbound
is bound to be bound,
and I weep
for
knowing.
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
we’re
the salt of the earth
or whatever
at least
that’s what God says
salt from dust
dust from ashes
ashes from nothing
nothing from Him
i wonder
sitting in sand
with sea in my mouth
if i am salt
if i am savory enough
salt of the earth
to dust you will return
but not before
you stamp the ashes of your sin
i feel sick
if i am salt
then how do i
exist
without water
there is just
death
salt sucks life
but
then
worming between my toes
is the very marriage
of the two
oh
sweet contradiction
bitter is your truth
sour your tongue
but just salt in the end
we’re
the salt of the earth
or whatever
at least
that’s what God says
in sleep there are no mysteries
that dash and dim the glass of dreams
there’s only time untold to eyes
for treading through such reveries
unwinds the truth for what it seems
and fantasy tells no lies
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
after
smoke has settled
and the ground’s soaked up the red
after
night has tucked her blade
and left to break her bread
after
all the wanderers
have lined up foot to head
after
I have buried them
and laid them into bed
I am not my father’s son
though he may stir and grip his gun
I am not the army’s man
I left them long ‘fore I began
I am not a child of war
though hardened is my heart to gore
I am just the aftermath, you see.
after
words have crumbled
and there’s no one left to weep
after
time has torn apart
what we once swore to keep
after
all the wayfarers
have drifted fast asleep
after
I have wondered why
my song had not been reaped
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
Restless is the wanderer,
inconstant are her itching feet
that cannot bide the ties of time
or ramble the well-travelled streets.
Nothing more than ‘fixed’ she fears,
and ‘settled’ stirs her skin with snakes —
adventure and the unknown steers
her into strange and thrilling stakes.
With each mountain matched and scaled
the lines across her map unravel,
for the wanderer can’t be nailed
in her life of constant travel.
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
He was some forsaken singer,
rhymes lost, dead ringer
for that ol’ road-weary trope
of the dying antelope
that wonders, spilling strong,
why no one can hear his song.
He was some wrought-iron castaway,
steel-tamed yet fit for flay,
just a fat ol’ fish, hook in lip,
‘tween the old man’s knees, ’bout to slip,
wondering how the water could be
so cold above his cobalt sea.
He was some shriveled, paper poet,
mildewed months, wrinkles to show it,
resolved to ink sparrows into the sky,
to prove that words with wings could fly —
he wondered, tongue poised on the stars,
if time would ever stitch his scars.
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
I like the way your lashes curl.
They’re shy, they are,
but they’re hiding stars —
I like the way your smile unfurls.
Oh, how you think it curious
that one could write of lashes
or compare smiles to caches
(for yours hides treasure, you know).
But my words aren’t spurious,
though you don’t see that, do you?
my heart, it goes right through you
(I’d weep; nothing’s left to show).
Fathoming’s a feat of faith,
and faith’s a gift I demand from you.
Greed can grant me this one request —
my question naked: is it true?
Are you blind to understanding?
Or is my notion of it skewed?
How can you beat the one I love?
How can you lie and turn your face?
How can you hurt the one I love?
How can you treat her with disgrace?
How dare you beat the one I love.
How dare you try to dispose of
the lashes that curl
the ones I like
the pure-hearted girl
the smile I like
the untarnished pearl
the heart I like.
Love.
Because I like the way your lashes curl,
it’s selfish, I know, and I realize,
but I love the way your smile unfurls —
now if only you would open your eyes.
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
Solitary, somewhere
stark
solitary, somewhere
dark
solitary, I
embark.
Embittered by the blind
who see
resentful of the safe
who flee
unforgiving to the rich
who plea
offended by
hypocrisy.
Purpose I will chase,
I swear
meaning I will trace,
I dare
the truth I will embrace,
but where?
Solitary, somewhere
stark
solitary, somewhere
dark
solitary, I
embark.
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
these worlds we unravel
between the sheets of our dreams
are mist on our skin
the peppermint air that we breathe
they taste like tomorrow
somewhere black cannot bleed
and I long to reach into
the worlds we unweave
almost touching infinity
but I can’t cut the strings
almost free from reality
but still the noose clings
these worlds we unravel
with fingers numb from the night
are words from our tale
from the story that we write
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
white powder
red lips
fluttering capes
polished quips
sequined masks
silent smirks
chalky laughs
hidden dirks
whispers whetted
on pearls and pleasure
blades embedded
with careful measure
we dance and drink and dream of fame,
but, my dear, it’s a part of the game
© 2015 Stellular Scribe
Stellular Scribe 