what will our bones say when the metals oxidize when bricks and bridges both have broken into dust when tombstone epitaphs have been toppled and rewritten by the rain and whipping winds what will our bones say when new versions of ourselves find them interred in the dirt i bet we get credit for the pyramids *
Tag: Death
Untitled, original poem #53
if life is a mountain and death is its cloud then i am the rain locked inside building to burst as a blind angel fountain over shadows waiting to die *
Untitled, original poem #47
worldly goods words and wooly written memoirs funeral cost concerns and casket color considerations scribed like living prayers into morning coffee notebooks today in your sunshine i am dead *
Untitled, original poem #39
impermanence my words not in question human madness so i'll spurt the seeds clash my sword of discord so sharpened in the soft and sunken wormy earth rebirth i am the burning bush i am the light a trillion suns settled still at the edge of the universe bleeding and gleaming leave whole worlds and words unspoken violent i am the violet and the lillies of the field pick me and see pick me
Untitled, original poem #29
stammering through sequential steps sex love breath stories and vignettes wailed in earth shibboleth what's next another sharp death i presume *
Original poem #22
Paradox Postulate
if there is truth if it is shepard it's an oceanic waterclock as we are subatomic fluid patterns and co-creator livestock whole worlds unseen words unspoken unwritten and unread if there is truth and truth is shepard we are both alive and dead * Info on Schrödinger's cat thought experiment.
Original poem #14
The Machine
i've seen the machine a psycho-spiritual fun house mirror where on the out forever weird almond-eyed gremlins work an old hand crank as they recycle souls i've seen lines of asomatous anarchists atheists and discorporate adherents lost children and passed parents alike watched them all queue up to pray prone at the tunnel of light deep down between gears lovers grasp and moan flowers fuse their gametes gases condense to bone no no real rest no judgement test just back into the machine *
Transdimensional Poet 