Blank.


I am a canvas.
My painting - a life supposed to be told.
In bold colors.
Eventually covered by a thick layer of dull white.

I am blank now.
Meant to be used.
Meant to be painted upon.
Meant to reflect.
The story of others.

I am your canvas now.
The place to dump your darkness.
The mirror to your life.

Layer upon layer I soak in.
To hide away.
To forget.
The story that was underneath.

I am a canvas.
I am blank.
All dull black now.

I left the path untouched
wood still breathing over the river
that learned the sound of your name

Your number still sleeps in my phone
a ghost curled inside glass,
waking hope
every time the screen flickers

Our pictures remain
small museums of a past
that refuses to close its eyes

And my arms
two empty rooms
still warm
from the last time you lived there

I thought leaving everything open
would guide you home

But seasons crossed that path
more faithfully than you ever did

To those who set
the world on fire
with an awful war,
like the falling
leaves of autumn
your masks fell
to uncover
the ugly faces.

Don't look in the mirror

Is it distasteful for me to watch intently as you take your leave
Waltzing with your arms swinging surely by your side
I hope to accrue whatever I may from the direction they sway
The jump in your step
though now this seems disingenuous
The sounds of your steps, the pace at which each boot is laid
The way you hold your head high
What a fool of me you’ve made
I watch until you are out of sight
And there is no more of you I can gather

prevails to be united part and parcel
of (ups and downs)
constituting human rat race
swallowed up within the vast cosmos
as an infinitesimal speck
amidst the chaotic
activity of one uppity simian
broadcasting fabulous
notoriety the universe over,
where one measly mortal
congratulating himself as all time muckraker
since beginning of the space/time continuum
barely contemplating veritable insignificance,
nevertheless trumpets his daily rag exclusively
dedicated to him front to back as megalomaniacal

you're a lunatic country, I say
at a billion dollars a day
makes me wonder the cost
of those innocents lost
but you lot still believe it's okay
why not fluff up your dukes
and bomb them with nukes
y'all want it, we see how you play

Soaked sheets from forbidden lust offer cover to the skin
Moans and whispers conquer the mind imbued with carnal sin

Their bodies so entwined as each soul recognizes its twin
All demons disappearing in an everlasting lovers win

The master and the slave switch turns with the subject and the queen
Souls dancing in the cosmos where no others have ever been

He keeps seeing her in places where she never is
She keeps feeling him in spaces where he's never been