cruxymox

[cruxymox]

after this long night, a mourning

the echo of the black lake

the broken glass window of the heart

a forecast of rain

( something to look forward to )

ebon stripes down chin, across eyes drowning

listen ...

a slow dive into memory

the bird cries

listen

[cruxymox]

a butterfly flitted out of a mailbox

she had carefully cut postage stamps

shaped to fit her missing bits of wings

she was a philatelist, an explorer

she flew, somewhere between two cents & forever

[cruxymox]

˙ǝɯɐs ǝɥʇ uıɐɯǝɹ spɹoʍ ʎɯ

'ɯǝɥʇ spɐǝɹ ǝuo ʍoɥ ɟo ssǝןpɹɐƃǝɹ

[cruxymox]

this, my crash into a wall

a chord split in six

it is raining here, it is not

comic sans neon dance

static, wood-scarred violins, incomprehensible background conversations

discordant library lighting, ceramic plates chipped ( a grainy lick )

is it not raining here, i sit

i don't agree with you

that you need this silence

this farwayness, eyes into eyes deep as melted glass

some windowed heart screams somewhere

a calculator with the equals button jammed, a corn husk doll grins

[ color ] bottle with [ color ] dregs swimming in a desert ocean

i agree with you

put my hand on the concrete wall where the lovely weeds break through & listen with me

[cruxymox]

with your sadness, would you still shelter me from the weeping sky?

i'll hang 30-watt light bulbs from your arms, i'll twist so we can't see the wires

sway with salix illumination, listen to the shatter of drop upon drop on leaf upon leaf

in this our semi-darkness we'll wait for the stars to come out for the first time, for the last time

& would that this rain end

i pray you steal as many stars to fill your glasses & shine, they're yours, they're yours

would you still, willow, would you even now as the rain is in its denouement, shelter me from the weeping sky?

[cruxymox]

i was tagged by the parnassian @definegodliness to write my url in music. it didn't go as badly as i thought it would ...

___

cervix couch - christian death

rococo - cocteau twins

umbra sumus (part 1 & part 2) - jah wobble

xavier - dead can dance

you think you are so generous but it’s the most conditional 'anything' i’ve ever heard - yuka honda

moving - kate bush

o.k. this is the pops - tones on tail

x-odus - clan of xymox

___

i'm supposed to now tag seven people ( the number of letters in my url ), but you know me. however, if you like any of these songs, you're tagged.

[cruxymox]

there's no rest for the wicked

picked addicted

nicked convicted

{ putting down [those] words i

head-lay somewhere hope & soft

the deal is a demon for some sleep

( in for some, out for more )

set 'im up on a bookshelf where he can be *seen*

... oh look!

bad trinkety evil tchotchke!

snicker!snork.

}} what dreaming i [might] do

( tiny stomp-stomp-scraaape book to floor

opened to a page describing some shadow city )

} { hey, that could be a place for rest

let me rest,

hey, fever dream come on,

[cruxymox]

a beach - dark sand, bright sky.

an ocean full of life, the strange. full of loneliness, detritus, trash.

full of devouring, full of the vast.

a beach - bright sand, dark sky.

( does it matter which? )

the breeze catches individual grains of sand & pulls them into our hair & onto our stomachs.

the tide is receding, listen.

hear what is in the seafoam.

they speak.

( tell me their language. )

a ribbon bursts from the water, blinding, glorious, eye-filled. they've left their feathers at home.

they've uncurled, hovering, unblinking.

( oh no. be quiet, be still. i don't think they see us. )

they come back down again, gently. silently. they float, they close all of their eyes. they assume a human form.

they look at peace in the water.

( be still again, be quiet. something else comes. )

a gigantic obsidian dodecahedron covered with wet mouths is behind us. so many lips. so many teeth & tongues.

each face is a different state of grief. it whispers to us in every way.

[ get out of the water ]

we aren't in the water, the sand...

[ get out of the water ]

we're drowning, reaching up for the other angel far above, trying to steal away some of their peace. but they are no longer human, they're all weaving ribbons & eyes & they've their feathers returned to them.

their feathers are like wet fur, not like wings at all. gold & black & red.

( we're drowning, remember? we have been for some time now. )

do you remember what the seashore was like that summer? you know the one. the sand was hot on our bare feet, but we weren't allowed to go into the water.

there were things in the seafoam. the seafoam from the gently lapping waves. they told us so.

( who? )

they told us so.

( hush now. listen. )

[cruxymox]

prompt: angels in the seafoam

thank you for this prompt! i will do something with it at some point, i promise.

[cruxymox]

tarantula slow dances on a quiet altar

no offerings here, just the dance

hair undisturbed by a gentle breeze

or breath

gods tap on the glass, can you hear?

[cruxymox]

ellipsis just one time question mark what with being a writer right slash poet right slash whatever i am left paren weird comma left brace i try to be kind right brace comma who even does that any more comma quiet comma dot dot and left paren left paren ampersand right paren right paren et cetera right paren i think i am asterisk always asterisk an outsider mismatched left bracket three x ellipsis add an image of a biblical angel here who does that question mark three x and at this point left paren probably earlier right paren right paren tilt you are tired of reading this and trying to replace the characters with the start italics symbols end italics and there aren apostrophe t even any line breaks but imagine them comma imagine them where ever you want to put them and that is where i will try to be em dash somewhere outside of these words comma somewhere outside of this very strange world period

[cruxymox]

i am one step below slow poeming

moss warms under relentless sun

moss dying above my empty head

what is behind the words is that i am behind on the words

[cruxymox]

worn away, i

a terrible feather pull

drifting to the ground

not windblown but

caught, stuck / wet, weary

i offer to cut & tear apart

such that you can again

wing, span, flutter, soar

[cruxymox]

soon, summer, the same

i sit on hardened dirt, i sit on dying grass. i try to lean my head on the metal pole even though it has begun to rust. the black paint is chipped & peeling.

but i cannot move.

the third shift night terror has done its job fairly well, even though the fear spilled slowly out & has been replaced by a heavy void.

[ the fear was viscous, it was an ugly red & green. it was a bad infection, an old christmas. its mouths left dragging loose teeth. i let a hesitant finger linger upon it as if it were a snail. it did not look back. it divided itself by zero, dissolved. my finger, dry. a part of me, gone. ]

the third shift night terror wore a tattered suit coat, grey. television static patterned. not like today, but a long ago yesterday. under its coat it wore a t-shirt. off-white. coffee-stained. it was plain other than the word 'each' stamped ( stamping? rearing up? ) in front of a faded flame.

i remember this because i could not see its face. i remember this because of the burning smell.

it spoke a spirit box farewell.

it grows darker & there is a burst of golden streetlights all around me. too brief before a crack of thunder & unseen lightning puts them out. they were beautiful. like fireworks for the first time. like a five hundred & forty five winged glowing fleshy möbius strip covered with many-colored & teary eyes, all but a few looking at me. it hovered here out of time, filling my head with its glossolalia poetry. pulling hard at my void, rendering me even more useless.

a burst of golden streetlights gone. & me. still sitting here. hoping it happens again sometime.

& darker still.

i can't remember that it has ever rained this hard.

[cruxymox]

i thought the walmart i go to ( only when i have to ) had no granola bars

but i went there today

and i saw them there

in plain view

the granola bars

*right there*

so maybe it was a dream

it must have been a dream?

[cruxymox]

catoblepas, catoblepas

the weight on my chest

scales - dark eyes

something's burning

( still )

& a drowned orange moon

sits wide & fatly upon the sky

we woke up too early for this

[cruxymox]

an unsick, the sticky sun doesn't jut

from these-clouds, grey with an e

& a why; we surely wish, we want

a stop to the glasses drops &

a shield for these splintering rains