I Am The Rock Hunter, Burying Myself In The Elegant Carbon Of Discovery

1.
A scream
battering the darkness

a hopeful kite
loosed from gloved hands

hiding burnt skin
inside vocal emanations

2.
sung songs strike meteorite heavy
against the plural skies

mind
meandering

a Martian lodestone
forged then ejected into space

asteroid ferociousness
vectoring

fully ripened anger of gravity
unleashed

sent on a million year journey

destined to eventually rest for intricate moments
in the astonished palm of a human hand

an epiphany
polished

a staggering shard of
another world gleaming

speaking
with the mouth of the universe

3.
standing
in the evening sun

soaking in
the heartening vibrations

zooming glint of insects and dragonflies
sparkle like animated treasure

gloriously defying Newton
against a backdrop of tall
whispering evergreen trees

A Galactic Starburst In The Shape Of A Bullet

1.

I am a thin sliver of doubt

floating upon a sea of devastating tranquility.

 

Yet I dream with the velocity

of exploding stars.

2.

As planet Earth rotates at 1,000 miles per hour,

my mind twirls with dream-time possibilities;

 

like a ball on a string we simultaneously zoom

around a lemony sun at 66,000 miles per hour.

3.

Even when I try to cease these clock-tick movements

the chemistry of life churns onward as heartbeat by heartbeat

my body rifles through space-time.

 

In the massive serenity of the moment

I sense the glacial churn of the Milky Way;

 

though our spiral arm spins at 483,000 miles per hour,

it still feels like swimming in molasses.

 

4.

As I sink deeper into this cosmic mirror-land

I hear the faint rattle of a snake’s tail

as my perspective morphs again.

 

Relative to the Cosmic Background Radiation,

the Milky Way barrels through space-time

at 1.3 million miles per hour.

 

5.

As my essence bathes in the faint

universal whispers of the big bang

 

I taste millimeter-sized wavelengths

bursting with the flavor of human epiphany,

 

for I suddenly know that,

since the formation of the Sun and Earth,

 

the quarks that compose my body

have spun around the Milky Way twenty times.

 

6.

I am a thin sliver of doubt

floating upon a sea of devastating tranquility.

 

Yet I dream with the velocity

of exploding stars.

 

 


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Holding The Bruised Rose Blossoms Of An Attempted Genetic Rinse

Juggernaut Of Yearning

Metaphysical Magic

 

 

As Our Thought-Gardens Bloom, Jupiter Opens Another Of Her Stormy Eyes

I. Sometimes I Awake With Weeping Eyes Of Jade

 

There in the brooding darkness

pitch-dark lacerations appear in twisted streaks

against the mirror of my spine.

 

The tangled knapsack that hides

this hideous soul-carnage tumbles open

and the mirage of self dissolves:

as my fingers begin to puddle in circular rings,

the watery vibrations of this asteroid-filled symphony

crescendo into a wall of bitter violins,

ripe with the tender heat of resignation.

 

II. Whittling The Worn Wood Floor With Another Wandering Footstep

 

Stalking past the reaper’s molasses trap of gurgling regret

a haunting face appears and disappears in the black lava

like a million-year-old leaf,

unearthed and instantly oxidized

by the quicksilver rays of the morning sun.

 

Yet still I lift the veil,

still I lift the veil

just to feel the fleeting outline

of a human face bathed in obsidian,

drowned in the slow-cooked crude of consciousness.

 

Muddle,

muddle through

the eye of the needle

once more.

 

III. Here In The Trenches I Await The Killing Ether

 

Corpse rage clouds my eyes.

 

Icy thought-daggers hover relentlessly above,

coating this diamond sphere

with the spiked gravestones of indignation,

the only ammunition I need.

 

Calm as angel’s breath

I aim squarely at the cosmos

and ease the trigger back.

 

From atop this splintered life-boat,

set adrift on a sea of uncertainty,

a shot rings out into the void.

 

Calm as angel’s breath

I aim squarely at the cosmos

and ease the trigger back.

 

In the quiet corners of quantified time

silence sheds like the rattlesnake’s skin:

the outer shield has been left,

but the raucous chorus still remains.

 

The outer shield has been shed,

but the raucous chorus still remains.

 

IV. The Noose Of Particles That Surrounds Our Minds

 

Physics,

that vicious mistress,

is both the waterfall’s end

and the river’s icy-mountain beginning.

 

Even the wildest gyration of a poet’s arrow,

launched haphazardly towards a simile-strewn heart,

is descended from her bountiful waters.

 

Wielding the icy blade

of forgiveness with flaming palms

renders resolution impossible.

 

V. Wring Me Out In Waves Of Hate

 

This skull juice

is the ultimate poison;

let it coat the throat of this universe

with noxious dark matter.

 

My heart,

forged from the unfathomable cauldron of time,

is shaped like a trillion question marks.

 

My mind,

reassembled from a swarthy jet of star radiation,

is a prismatic lodestone sword:

with unforgiving effervescence,

it glimmers in the chill of the night.

 

VI. Pruned From The Trees To See The Skylight Surrounded By Black

 

Sometimes I shred

the obscuring clothes of humanity

just to beat the rocks like the primate I am.

 

I vocalize,

a furious four-limbed sculpture of carbon

shouting from inside the atmosphere’s skin.

 

The formula is cruelly diaphanous:

god is a zero,

a placeholder denoting

all that is vast,

all that confounds

a single pair of trembling hands.

 

Yet,

there in the half-light

we surf upon the cold wind stream,

propelled by the flamboyant warmth

of our jackknifed hearts.

 

VII. Flourishing In The Quiescent Light Of A Soaring Moonlit Night

 

Sometimes we yearn to un-know,

to return to the elaborate facades

that cloud the skyline of ideas.

 

But this razor-vision,

swiped from Occam’s lips,

it reaches into absolute zero

and pulls out a steel heart

brimming with elapsed regret.

 

So I vocalize,

a furious four-limbed sculpture of carbon

shouting from inside the atmosphere’s skin.

 

I call out for a sentient star:

a giant machine like us,

born into majestic isolation.

 

Together,

we are atomic siblings

bathing in the flamboyant warmth

of our jackknifed hearts.

 

VIII. And Sisyphus Wept Intergalactic Tears

 

Sometimes a galaxy is a speck

caught in the eye of a supple colossus,

a Herculean statue of light,

littered with the fruit of self doubt.

 

Yet the size of its mind-terror mirrors our own,

and eventually we must reunite

in the brotherhood of blood:

cracking rock after rock after rock

against the slavemaster’s chains.

 


Please enjoy my books (FREE pdf of first two books here) and leave a 5 star review:

Holding The Bruised Rose Blossoms Of An Attempted Genetic Rinse

Juggernaut Of Yearning

Metaphysical Magic

The Metaphorical Overload Of A Gravitationally Lensed Heart

I.

Skull ovals widen their electromagnetic net,

dragging her into my line of sight like collateral damage.

 

Her smile subtly burrows through me

like a Planck-scale gravitational wave,

evoking quantum goose-bump ripples

that carve epic monuments into my skin.

 

She inhabits my outer shell

like a master puppeteer,

marshaling my limbs to dance

to the beat of the prime singularity.

 

I am a flimsy sheet of sentient parchment

on which the cosmic background radiation is written.

 

II.

Whenever inertia draws her near,

space-time creaks and hisses

like an old house blown by the wind.

 

The same way that the curvature of Earth red-shifts

the lemony midday sun into a rust-tinged evening sunset,

she pinches off my shocked heart like a cluster of dusty grapes.

 

Untethered to the supermassive wounds of lost love,

the amorphous boundaries of the cryptic past

dissolve like a magician’s failed finale.

 

Her spring face and energetic eyes

reconstruct my depleted center

with the unstoppable momentum

and unimaginable complexity

of a swirling galactic supercluster:

 

my halted bloodstream and choking lungs

suddenly refill with thin blue atmosphere

as I bathe in the circularity of lust.

 

III.

Her silently approaching silhouette stirs

this surging shipwreck of consciousness forward,

releasing balloons of steely desire which rise

like a flurry of bioluminescent corpses

from the crushing depths of the sea floor.

 

Her sweeping vista expands before my eyes

like desert mountains upturned by the tectonic drift of time.

 

Curled inside the light-starved cocoon of night

my eyes climb over her glacial body with the frenetic motion

of lizards scrambling up a cliff face to sun upon the rocks.

 

My heart is a flaming tongue,

piercing the night air.

 

IV.

With an alluring gaze,

she sprinkles my inner solar system

with flickering purple discs of unstable antimatter

that orbit near the surface of my flushed face.

 

As she leans in for a kiss,

our opposing particles spectacularly collide:

soon all that will exist in the universe

is the supernova remnant of our Love.

 

My jack-hammered heart glistens

like the gnarled trunk of a mammoth alien tree

whose drooping boughs still remain

despite a thousand years of winter lightning

and a full season of flooding summer rain.

 


Please enjoy my books (FREE pdf of first two books here) and leave a 5 star review:

Holding The Bruised Rose Blossoms Of An Attempted Genetic Rinse

Juggernaut Of Yearning

Metaphysical Magic