Picture this...(August '14)

[Mantra]

Write to this picture. Any style. Any length. Go

[143]

I wish time like this would fly fast
The last thing I would want to do is bathe in pain
But the grinding of the millstone chimes an eerie chord
Playing my nerves to twist

I could hear the sharpness through the air
Moving aimlessly yet focus on my condition
The smell of fresh steel enveloped my defenses

Smiles to ward of his arrival were in vain
His steps of horror echoed in hollow cranial cavities
Causing a calamity between haste and recession
Rhythmically pacing for his duty

And I saw his arrival
His face macabre, stoic
Replacing the lost battle that my Grandfather entered
Honoring an enemy

He walks away carrying my Grandfather to the afterlife
Tending to his rituals....he stops in mid stride
Reflecting in the tears I was drowning my toes in, he gives me attention
A memory that only my Grandfather and I could only bear
He wasn't greedy
Maybe he was a Grandfather too
Knowing how much it hurts when you leave this Earth
Forgetting tomorrows as they pass without you
Growing on the hearts of love ones who worship your seat at the table
Being the beacon of the family......

He gives me back the time when we celebrated
His facial plates of bones cracked a smile
And I was no longer afraid.......

[The Great Father]

Time to die.
Welcome to your new life.

[Foreshadow]

Do you love me?
Please, look me in the face..
I've gathered these souls
composed with flames.

Here.. take them..

Here..

[Soule]

She shivers;
a Winter-like breeze alarms the hairs on her neck.
Listening to the story her mother struggles to read.
Cherry balloons startle from the corner of her eye,
daddy sneezes to surprise her with pollinated flowers.
Mommy wipes a tear from her cheek, kissing her daughter.
When the little angel begins to shake and wheeze,
doctors storm the room like ants scavenging food.
Caffeine motivated hands trying to inject the placebo,
but her episode is going by too fast as she flails about.
Tongue tied with the punching bag in the back of her throat,
pupils focused on the imagination behind her perfect face.

There's a man in the corner;
dressed like he's ready for a funeral.
She asks if he's lost someone dear,
he replies, "no, I'm here to make a friend."

Her mother soaks a tissue with salted sorrow,
chest sore from hours of uncontrolled breathing.
As bottles tower at the feet of a desperate father.
The silence is deafening; a home full of decay,
both just do whatever they can to simply get away.
Cigarette ash stains the walls- vomit colors carpets,
unaware she's watching from heaven's balcony.
Uneasy, she wrestles the mans sleeve,
begging him to tell them it's all just a dream.
He disagrees, she misunderstands, this isn't a lie,
he explains to her the cancer finally won the fight.
She sobs, he cradles her...

"Don't worry, my sweet Annabelle, they'll too feel your enlightenment."

[Split Eight]

stained glass.
centuries came and went
in an Amen's riverbed. on a blade of grass,
dew drops evaporate. maybe, more-
a ray of light instead, flickered out
like the sudden summer rains that spite
a tiny window's paned descent.
i am awash in you
your name is read, a lost balloon,
I watch as it strays the breadth of
my sill's broken shade- a sunset
like the soaking stain when you'd
throw your glass of red and then complain that
I never brought you flowers. or made the bed.
I cannot look away, in times like this,
but watch the sun's towering reign decay
like a lost balloon, losing air; or flowers
before they're ruined, gray. I've not improved.
The hours sink me in my seat-
like a gob of glaze in an aged mosaic,
through the courtyard view to Sunday school.
i'm awash in you. a seat i'd sink into
for hours, like rain in an ancient riverbed

"daddy, where do you go when you die?"

I cut the balloon's string, laid the bouquet down.
"undergound. like a flower stem. but you'll
wake up, away in the sky-"

"like heaven?"

"no"