Tag Archives: blood

My Heart is Done

The porcelain death pallor of my own skin frightens me
Despite my sudden feelings of wanton immortality

I had been brought to the fire so I danced amongst the embers
I ripped the stars out of the night sky cutting my fingers on the coronas
The blood running down my arms and gathering at my feet

My old beating heart still hangs heavy behind my brittle ribcage
Heavy and dense and of no use to me now – my heart is done

Slippers in the Snow

She wears slippers in the snow
Her ankles are raw and red and angry
Her smile fades as she puffs out a thin steam
Across the frozen air between them

She wears slippers in the snow
Grey slush as cruel as her childhood
She remains defiant of the weather
The weather remains indifferent to her

And her slippers in the snow

Walk Me Through Your Peru

Walk me through your Peru on a summer’s morn
Where the distant echo of the trumpet
From the wrinkled trunk of the massive
Invisible elephant fills your soul
Bringing you back to greasepaint and dreams
Bringing you back to calliopes and sawdust

Take me beyond the crushed peanut shells
And the sticky sweet smells of caramel corn and candied apples
And the haze of danger looming overhead without a net

Walk me through your Peru on a summer’s afternoon
Show me the bountiful table with golden fried chicken
And corn-on-the-cob that glistens and green beans so fresh they snap
Corn bread with some lumps in it – gravy with none
And a tall cold glass of milk

Walk me through your Peru on a summer’s evening
Deliver me at last to the star-filled night
Where we lie on our backs and connect the constellations
You hand in my hand – my heart in your hand
On our backs in the tall grass – gazing up to the heavens
Gazing up from your Peru

Love is brutal she said

Love is brutal she said
Like a big knotted fist
In the mouth of a baby

If I can’t kiss you
Let the fist do its worst
Love will break your teeth for you

Love digs into your skin she said
Like that old kitchen appliance
That splits your tender fingertips

If I can’t touch you
I have no use for these fingertips
Love will split them for all they’re worth

The Sun Struggles Up

The most natural feeling as the sun struggles up is my bones grinding against yours
You are jarring and crushing and breaking your promises to the ghost of my childhood
Still a whispered breath trapped within your vena cava keeps me cold and you alive

The ribcage forged of your love protects the soul of my past and memories of my father
Washing the bony joints of our crippled fingers the dirty water runs down the baby’s face
The weak understand this is a baptism of desperation and consolation but not redemption

The charred remains of a dream I couldn’t afford and you couldn’t live without haunt us
Our bones have been put up for the first thaw and there’s something burning on the stove
We argue His presence in the room but we don’t deny it as we watch the sun struggle up

The Warning of the Rose

She ignored the warning about the thorns
As big as your knuckle she was told – and sharp
Like nothing she’d ever seen before
Be careful they all warned her time and time again
You gotta be real careful around those roses
You see the stem is the lifeline of the rose
And you have to protect your lifeline at any cost
That’s why God put thorns on roses like that
They protect the lifeline from foolish lovers
Who would sever that line and kill the rose
Now God must have really felt special about this rose
To have given it those big spiny thorns
He must not have wanted anyone to have it
But some simple minded sharecropper’s daughter
Cut it quick and sent it to where you got it from
So now that you have it you have to handle it carefully
Because the tighter you squeeze – the more you bleed
The pain will still not be worth the blood
She ignored each warning
As if she never heard a one of them
She grabbed that rose and held on for life
She squeezed that life line for all she was worth
She was not afraid of the pain
She clasped her soft pink hand around it
And felt the thorns her tender flesh
Still she would not let go
The blood began to fill the whorls on her fingertips
Before slowly dropped to the floor
Where it made a small red puddle
She just stood there smiling weakly
Holding tightly on to her rose
Everyone left her alone there
Maybe the blood was too much for them