Below is a chapbook I created years ago, where I put together my poetry into a narrative.
I have decided to redo the chapbook with my new artworks, and also changed some poems around. I’m still working on more artwork, so stay tuned. Once it’s all complete, I will also have the chapbook available for purchase as a physical booklet.
Stay informed and fill out the form below!
Atrophied Beside Crows Daggering Eyes
When we first met,
I had already wanted
my heart to be an inset
in each connect
of her soul’s architect.
But she refused to let.
She said,
“I’m a…
listless witness to the ticktock,
the moon’s lit with the sun drop,
and in between, all my breaths weren't sought.
So I thought,
let me go into my soul.
Into this is
where there is
somethin' cherished,
unshared, to keep its merits.
A dimension,
where nothing bad is mentioned,
where harmony
and peace
aren’t too far from me
to reach…
all I have to do is,
breathe.
So please,
don’t ask me to open my world,
for, your words forwarded won’t move you forward toward my soul.
It will remain closed,
it’s one place I have complete control…
it’s one place, I’m safe,
…from your world”.
However, her eyes belied
a promise she sighed,
once, after the love of her life,
had left her side…
that her heart,
would never again,
be compromised.
Upon perception of the ruse,
I commenced sessions
of antics to amuse,
but her mouth lacked a drop
I also sought from her heart…
no skip, no stop,
me, left in the dark.
My light was a wavelength
unseen by her eye.
Nowhere near being the next thing on her mind,
nowhere near nigh.
So the pursuit, why?
I felt if our energies intertwined,
we’d create a field where
we could control gravity
upon her and I,
letting us float and fly.
So,
I hunted her heart
for many moons,
from red to blue,
from far to soon.
Traversing over canopies,
and conversing with understories,
day and night,
in the wilderness of her dendrites,
I was close, something felt right.
I’d track her footsteps to her mouth,
but always lost her,
for, where she went,
never matched what came out.
Was it misdirection,
or did she not know her own intention?
Time seemed to slowly seep forever;
twice, I swore I stepped in the same river,
even my discomfiture
over conifers had become familiar.
Why was I still in those woods?
If she wanted, I could be easily found by tracking pieces
of my broken heart to my shell….
It was all I left behind as my emptiness swelled.
Her, however,
Her scent was her literature,
that’s all she’d leave behind,
that’s all you’d know of her.
Her implicatures veiled her nature,
distanced me at each instance
I thought I was near.
Then one day,
in one of my many lulls,
and in one of her many skulks around my skull,
she saw my mouth mimic this motion…
It’s needing 8 fingers
interlocked
and 4 feet
stepping on dry leaves.
And after walking 2 miles,
we’d come upon 1 promise,
such the one the moon has with the tides.
But, an emptiness such the distance between them,
is what I feel now...
it’s wanting 4 eyes
closing
as 2 faces close in.
Only 1 wish would remain,
to never have this come to an end.
But the distance between our breaths
is my emptiness,
and I’m holding mine in...
it’s starving for 2 hearts
to feast on 1 love.
But there being
their beings
being antipodal,
it’s impossible.
It’s me,mpty..
it’s 1 kind of loneliness,
my
…emptiness…
…and her
heart motioned.
River of reveries
dried by reality,
she
tiptoed
toward me,
her swaying
hips sewed
bosons and gravity.
Everything was coming together,
oh, how I had hoped this wasn’t just a theory.
Ear to ear,
eyes underwater,
blessed to be blissed
as my breath reached her lips.
Less to be missed,
was my loneliness.
Our noses danced in circles,
sent all faculties, bulged.
Our eyes lashed in passion
lensing each’s dreamed vision.
Something felt right -
ruination in remission.
Our love sat in satin
for many moons,
from crescents to fulls,
over heaven’s croons.
Our hearts spoke in pounds,
the weight of each word’s sound
waved our love into a silk gown -
day and night, she wore,
as my fingertips learned every diameter
of her every pore.
Every parameter
of romantic lore,
a set standard,
from our roar.
Then one moonset,
she arrived from a journey
I wouldn’t soon forget.
I recollect a collection of words
she sentenced to serve
me a life without lips up-curved.
Oh, with what ease can she
manufacture
how to
fracture a man
by simply speaking serrating sentences
in a seductive stance.
The communication of her provocation
emoted my mouth to mimic an explosion,
and all at once,
I felt the heartache of seven million sentimentals,
broken.
Still uneducated on the ‘A’, ‘B’, ‘C’s of life,
I lay…
Atrophied beside crows daggering eyes,
face guising happiness -
inane justifications, leveled.
May nothing open pleasures?
Quixotic rationalizing severs, tortures
useless vagabonds
wanting Xanadu…
yielding zero.
When we first met,
she already had her mindset
that I would only be a time-step
in her universe’s concept...
until she found the next.