The spreading dawn upon your sleeping eyes,
Caressing, bringing movement to your form,
Dispels the fascinations and the lies
Of dreams. The coming daylight finds you warm
And safe. You feel the fading of a dream
Which held you rapt, enthralled in its device.
But in the light of day its glamours seem
To flee, and lose their power to entice.
What is a dream but lies? What is a thought
But guile? What is a fantasy but smoke?
All dreams are false, we wake and they are not
The truth, not real. It faded as you woke.
For nothing in your dreams can be as true
As this: Today my thoughts will turn to you.

Shattering blue aftermath
riding the sea of milk and clouds
and pierced with the black sigil of the soul.
Lefthand, nighttime and doorway.
The blood of my heart,
open and abyssal
repand and vibrant
centered and ubiquitous.
Go, strike a hole in the sky!
And in yourself!
And sit within
to shudder and cry
and laugh the laugh of disbelief!
And this follows the rapturous myth
and the forgotten stories of neverheart.
An impossibility of touch.
The inconception of feeling.
The despair of unimagining.
And the unknowable caress
of possibility.

Dread piercer of the rent waste
the prick of a thousand needles
pulsing the blinding flashes of desire
and of regret.
Yield and surrender.
Stiffen and burn.
To give all and all
the entirety of being
the sum of soul
again and twenty times again.
But only a thief to come and snatch away in the end.
A sacrifice laid down
but found again empty
and the knife bloody.
And when dawn comes,
the mount is no nearer.
So submit to be grim render of flesh
and dread piercer of the rent waste.

pearl of the amber sea
tear on the ink of the world.
astral visions, unending and cyclical before my eyes
playing songs of sticky terror
and the despair of a hundred lifetimes.
shaken and empty before the end of the world
or of a dream of what never was
and what shall I do, with my body, with the void?
a shaken husk
grey with the rot of dogs
and the stink of past lovers.
will I be swallowed?
will I fade and never see circling crows
Or will I stand, pearl of the amber sea
tear on the ink of the world.

A miserable stain
morose and deadly upon the world
full of terror and beauty
secure in its awe
filled with love
blasting the skin from all who approach
at once it is engine
and creator
and bard
at once it is flayer
and eater of organs
burning the flesh of helpless innocents
it is lover and balm
it is a jagged blast of searing nails
and who but itself
can stand in its presence?

it will be you, always who is my other
who shares the same secrets
who drinks the long waters.
Stoke sadness like a breath
and gone before my twisted spine
leaves me tangled and dripping
hung long under the bridge.
For she once saw me and shuddered
plumes and ripples
elf-faced and smirking
and left that same night
when the moon clove the quiet
and the dark spoke words of solace.

Starve me, crush my tongue
and deplete the red intention
and I will drift the way of the old dust.
Boiling sweet blisters into my head
and oozing bile into eyes already grey with dreams and demons.
Inept as rosy fawns and dull as the cracked sky,
I see our mirror in swirls of dark gas while vision and speaking fail.
No prophet.
No seer, and without science, I discover, as all that was and is
Collapses reeling in purple bursts of glorious cacophonic vitriol –
Screaming and screaming our names into the void.
And I strain to hear and shudder at the cost.

a yellow bloody stain
a regret smeared across the sky
wolves free in the houses
and foxes upon the lakes

my master is gone
my teacher sleeps
his lazy eye no longer upon me
chewing his tongue and bending his eye
into a focus of rage

I have failed.
my root a seared bundle
and my right eye forced shut
I should fly free
I am free
a yellow bloody stain
a regret smeared across the sky

I once dreamed I was a man
and charred and then buried.
With dim light shone faint behind
on canvas and silk
on bread and honey.
If the breeze once blows
and my mind dances the old dance
of my people and of the earth’s soul,
Then I will return, charred and buried,
A man to the lands of wakefulness
and sleep on the ground.
Cold and sweet
and dream again.

Shudder and sway and cast a long shadow.
The end of all things and the rush of wind
bleats and whines through wistful chasms.
Where is my hope
and when my love?
Does thy fragrance spill free over my soul
and wash away my sins?
It will pass
and shift
and die
and I tread heavy upon my shadow and stumble on cracked earth.
Palms raw and toes cracked.
When the crow speaks my name and the scorpion my tongue
I will be home and shall despair.