Hi-ho and hello.
A Poem
By: M. R. Vega
I hesitate, take a pause, hold my breath, shift to the interlacing threads I know are there and hold a liquid splendor to the rotting of what’s pumping inside.
The barbs strike, coiling around, around something aching, convulsing, and thrashing.
The heart it lays heavy, sobbing, liquid gestating to the kind masticating young for the blood to pump life and passion, a gestating for love, for hate. How it whinies, how it crows upon the moon, how it gawks and hoots, suckling at the casabas of us, of you, of me, for love, for hate.
Atop the chest of us, inhaling the anguish, and spewing the fueling, putrid ale, shoveling into you and I.
Like pigs greedily suckling, latching and hating, spewing malice, fuming frothing despair. Take upon the lies of dawn, of an earlier darkness that takes and takes all to what is always enough but suck and suck it goes, gestating the hate, gestating the malice that is becoming you and I.
Becoming you and I. We kick and flail, like infinite children giving up on growing, on changing, let it be, take me to the pits, bring me the fire. What say you?
The moon is dead, the sun blackened, my hands red, your eyes crying, wet and flooding. The moon is dead like the heart that was, like the heart we made and gave up on.
The moon is dead and my heart is blackened with the sun, blackened with the mind of you and I. I bet for your needs, beg for the want for what comes with an eternal love, silence meets my ears. Silence meets my heart, for you and I.
Invisible? Can I no longe be a part of you, wanting to know what you’re needing, what you want, running, running down through to the ground, bloodied and pulped. Struggling and darkened, faded and gone, tripping over the land miness of twisted logic. An ouroboros of the gestating kind, a self proposed ambition of the constant duration to the forever abortion of love and hate.
Forever.
Let me be, tell me those needs to keep this going…
Like Sisyphus, Hercules, Pandora, and those that spoil. take me to the fire for love and hate. Take me to the squelching gnashing and gnawing hate that fuels the irons, that laces the barbs upon a heart for you and I.
Sorry, the last few days have said a lot through emotions seen and shown, the living of life and love, am I right?
C’est La Vie
Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. Thank you for the support, thank you for the views and coming back a time or two. Til tomorrow.
NOSCE TE IPSUM
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