seasons
may time unwind its precious vine
and throw up a tremor
a hiccup of the soft summer air
a burn of the daily oil
fierce and bright
flames lick wild in silent delight
oxygen, air turns full and wide
and smiles once creased to horror
creased to madness
creased to wide-eyed hunger
return to the song
the morning chortle
soft and sweet,
warm strokes on the cold haze
golden flakes etched onto the black
flames dance and run
blue spark and fury through the joint
where time’s fruit dropped to a common earth
where beatles crawled an army hand in hand
where the setting sun roared in sadness and joy
entwined in misery and ecstasy
soft grass laughing beneath tip-toeing feet
young and old slip and slide
meet neath the brief starry shell
for what was ours is now gone
and what is theirs is the time
falling sands ticking into eternity’s bosom
and the eye can only grow soft and warm
damp in the wind
tear runs soft and sure
lights tear through the darkness
switched in mad-eyed reach
hands buried deep in dark silence
climb out to steal the spade
to dance and rage,
angry before the wheels of suffering
sight breaks on the new land
lights tearing through the darkness
into far corners, into every vessel and vain
and turns to stone, slow and dead
in eyes before a shrieking crowd
in hands trembling
in feet stalling
and falling
in the cold gaze of the lonely mountain
in promises broken and ripped
destroyed in fierce rage
maybe my days were turned
before i had finished the script
maybe fear like a snake
crushed those dreamy embers
in its binding coil
redmist rise in the dwindling light
panic rage on the falling branch
where the meandering spirit fell
to a shriek before its curling demon
a plot spinning
in the late summer warm
running to its slow death
burning to black smoke,
madness like a spectre
loomed by the turning wheel
madness like a knife
runs smooth and slow along sleeping skin
madness like a howl,
rattle through the skull
rattle through the bone and flaking flesh
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