Poetry

IV.

 i.

God is a mother  

Look in the mirror 

God is a mother 

 ii.  

Change 

Again change 

And again change 

Change and again change  

And again and again 

And change 

Again 

 iii.   

Waking up after a dream where my mother was God and she told me she loved me and asked me to change again Mother again my grief is a hole and I'm far down in it 

Look in the mirror she said and I looked and saw and wept for grief in holes and someone is drowning in there I said someone is drowning but my mother said I am God and someone is else is God too because we are all God and 

Look in the mirror again 

Locked inside

Locked inside,  

She saw the valleys of my mind 

Once there were trees here,  

One could hear music from all around, for all was music then.  

All was song.  

I was song.  

I found rest there once, beneath dewy hemlock drenched in the amber light of youth.  

Locked inside,  

Obscured beneath these many years of grime,  

Inside a mind that loves to lie.  

And all that remains of those valleys,  

Those verdant resting places,  

Ash.  

It does not speak

It does not speak 

It breathes, a sharp stabbing intake through what would be a mouth 

Air that violates, air that steals 

Through what would be a mouth but is more of an empty window to an empty room 

Air rushes in 

A vacuum 

The void sucks  

But if I breathe, I am at least not empty of air 

It does not breathe 

It speaks to me 

Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone Alone 

Empty room 

I beg myself to open my mouth No 

I orbit myself

I orbit myself, crashing into stars, crashing into my living room, crashing into mirrors, screaming into mirrors. Flying into what I see I’m seeing and whatever is seeing me. 

Something empty lives in there. The mirror has eyes and screams silence. Screams for the terror of everything becoming nothing and grief that I am a warm body on a warming globe on a summer's day.  

For the deep ache in my bones has become the only thing, it has become all things, it has become everything.  

And all the while, I persist like an angry swarm of bees, humming myself a tether to this earth. Hum, hum, humming. 

I will hum through innumerable turnings of the seasons. I will walk along sidewalks in new places. I will cross oceans. I will live a life persistent. 

  • Dream it.

  • Build it.

  • Grow it.

  • Sell it.