Poems with limited space

A-peak

Ever paced a-peak a reborn mountain?
Ever witnessed the ravage of mankind
Or the relentless, rebellion of nature?

Years of cell construction, H20 induction
Shedding, shrinking, flexing to heaven
Gone with the shriek of a blade

Tree so tall, tipping hard and screaming…
All that remain? Burnt, uprooted stumps--
Like checkerboard islands afloat a sediment sea--

Shrubs and briars protrude in patches
Forming families of green wagon wheels
Armoring themselves with thorns and ticks

Fossils of the fated returning to the womb
Where worms and microorganism gorge
Gaily in an imperceptible pitch-black empire

Air bathes in secrets, snoring a white whisper
Quiet it seems, but nature’s war mutely wages

Humankind, but a puppet of evolution,
Stands a-peak.

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Invisible I Am

Invisible I am
Unseen, unheard
My whispers
Quieter than
Slower than
My movements
Invisible I am
Wishing to be
Hoping to disappear
Like a misty dream
I cannot grip
My hand is transparent
But I can slip
Straight through solid ground

………………………………....

With only a camera can a moment be paused
In life the perfect time slips away before noticed
And when the dumb soul realizes its missed opportune
It kicks itself and goads on something that can no longer be
Once the fog fades and that crossed-over time dawns

An ode to torment

Strange, how the greatest threat
Seems to always lurk next to me
Warming my blankets, touching me
Sitting in the passenger seat, next to
Me, holding my hand, telling me
Everything’ll be okay
I trusted it with all my dreams
I told it who I wanted to be
And it listened, quietly
All the while, preparing me

And on the day of collapse
When I needed it most
I wept, wretched and woed
When it returned to me, exalting
“you’re a windago! A windigo!
Peer here, of your former soul!
A spirit without spirit anymore!”
A page came
Inscribed line for line:
“You are nothing, you mean nothing!”

Lassoed was I, closer to a conclusion
Of cliff-like clarity
Death, albeit cold, befriended me
As I followed its breadcrumbs
up a fruitful hill, greenery in all
That even the rope was lush
Wrapping and wanting to fly
From tree to cheek and be
In clarity
At the peak of man’s destiny.

*************************************

Phoenix

It is a question of hope, this word being a word,
There must be some sort of purpose for writing this line

And when the phoenix doth rise again, and when the soul of the twisted star transform into a beating sun, will the tales of the shadows lurk gone by me, and will the holy men and women walk down from those peaks and share the light with us, for we bleed and we are cold, and we don’t know who we are again, for words just being words is a question of hope, as we are figments of choice and just bands of stretching gravity, and when the phoenix doth rise again and climb to capitol hill, tell the phoenix that ashes are where it was born, and where it will go when the flame doth die again, and it will be ashamed.

*************************************************
The Game

Sixty four squares of green and white
Six hundred and forty thousand drops of rain
Two men, one black and one white
With a dollar a piece on the table

Every face and skyscraper fades like a dream
Every prison tattoo and blue hat are the same
In distance, voices of crack and coke dealers ring
But in our minds, both young and old,
There is only the game.

*************************************************

When

Before, below the seas of souls, beyond
The final dawn, when stars must last explode
My soul would wait, its seed to fall upon
The hole, where hell transcribes the roads unknown

Upon, before the first gurgle and cry
When eyes are struck by burns of light, and day
And day begins the night, when light must die
And years of life soon slow all hope away

Come I a boy turned quick to man, in pain
Come change to all demands of Lucifer
Where God forgets the soul exists in rain
But love reminds that life has point with her

To love, to life, to hell so high and low
To all, to bonds, to God who takes me home.