The Gunsmith’s Song

I narrowed the world with scorching air,

a cave I stalked into earth’s bosom lair

echoing with its iron song

where no foreign hand belong.

I weighed my lungs in the choking air,

it laid the foundation bare

with the sinking burden of its flight—

a flash of light, and swift goodnight.

Years drift through the sulfurous after-air

Buried at the point of its timeless snare

Bent, unbroken on its stark crescendo

Lost to a brother I should never know.

(And for the more fantasy/full book inclined, don’t forget that there’s just one more day to get in on the FLASH SUMMER SALE currently involving The Hollow March, the first novel in my Haunted Shadows series. Don’t let it pass you by!)

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To Compose

Causing pain

is the nature of the note—

the pianist sits, prepared for murder

 

in operatic trespasses

he hears the Valkyrie ride,

her spear the thrust of baritone blast

 

piercing stars, like silver tears rain

 

It rolls down to earth,

 

a Resurrection, a stirring in the madness,

this flurry writhe:

a man might grow hollow on the glee

 

Destroying and Rebuilding—

Creation in the up-tempo swell,

 

but he cannot afford to think—

all crumbles to analysis.

* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well–they’re a skilled bunch of poets, with a strong and supportive community.  Enjoy! And while you’re at it – vote for us in the Shorty Awards…we have a chance to take Number 1 in Art!

We the People

The following poem was inspired by this article recently written by the BBC: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-11288744.

We the People

Have come to the conclusion

Hunger

Madness

Agony

This cycle of destruction

Is all too much for us

Unacceptably inflated

We must rise to put it down.

Ideas? Why

Whatever do you mean?

It is wrong,

So bitter wrong

But that is all to say

We wish that it were

But have nothing to insist

The prices rise

The people die

And here we sit

These desks, emaciated lie

Between us and

The world.

Ride on

I will ride you down.

Weather the weather,

Gnash tooth and claw

This spear, your arm

Outstretched to meet me

Like a wall of flesh

No more, no more

Come dust and earth

On bitter wind blow

I am vengeance

Ride on, ride on

And I will bear you down

Ride on, ride on

My lance, my passion

My steed, my life

Put up your steel

And dig your feet

I ride and ride for thee

Ride on, ride on

This barren waste is wasted

Ride on, ride on

Cracked and peel and broke asunder

Torn hoof and heel

I soar, as an eagle on the wind

Above the mountain heights

As both sink lower to the earth

Scarlet memory flow

Here falls, here rides

The mad man dead upon the field

And I am here, and staggering on

Ride on, ride on

A breath, a life, a broken soul

Ride on, ride on.

My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! If you happen to notice a correlation of theme, or at least, imagery, between this and last week’s submission, though, you’d be right. Congratulations. I’ve had this whole cavalry sort of notion stuck in my head for a bit now, and both of these were a result of that. Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

Upon the Precipice

Eyes open to the brink

I stand

Broken upon the edge

And though the sky is beating down

You are still above me

Always looking down.

Stretching for the dreams

Beyond your clouds

I burned within the strain

This arrogance has wrought,

And as the fire surged

I took it for desire

Obsession blinds

Focus the mind, focus the soul

Too late

All crumbling down,

The earth races

The sky screams

And I am tumbling through

This dear embrace

To something far more real.

Desolation Life

This cavalry ride,

This noble stride,

Stretch wide upon the earth—

Trembling thunder underfoot

Amidst the shadows lightening fall.

Death rides before the tip,

Death roars beneath the arrow scorn

And in the quailing devastation

Moves the seeds of their creation.

Bodies bloom like spattered roses

But from the agony of annihilation

Stirs the flowers–flourish,

Such color rises from silent gray

The mass is fallen

The light arise

Entangled limbs stretch toward the warm embrace

Soothed into the slumber

Of revival.

Ask not the ends

Ask the means—

What comes, shall come again

In one form or the next.

My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

Restless Nightmares Break…

A significantly darker piece than what most of my recent work has been, just in time for the first One Shot Poetry Wednesday. Once you’ve had a look, check out One Shot Poetry, too–a bunch of great poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

Restless nightmares break,

From wretched slumber do I wake

To a world of endless night—

Thunderous choirs make me crouch in fright.

High above us wraiths now soar,

Men clasp their ears to deafen their roar.

Over hills and shattered streets,

The bands come marching to woeful beats.

A hundred thousand voices cry,

Then all the singers die.

Blackest Blood

Black blood breathe

beneath the rocky deep

burn bright and high

waves broil, frothing

into the flames of your passing

but the gold-toothed smile

burns brighter still.

–

Sizzle, sizzle, boil and bubble

worlds part before

the tremble of your passing–

send tremors to the core

of all the staunchest hearts

come hell or high water

There will be Blood.

–

Wounds fester

like blisters burst

your fevered pitch defies

the madness of their dreams–

the sky and the sea weep black tears

and all are consumed–

come Death or Life.

Belief

I have not seen the light.

It burns

Me but I know

it is around Me

and I cannot feel it

on my skin this fire

Dances without Desire

Dies without Devotion

and wallows in its ashes

for a man

without Faith

knows neither Hope

nor Fear

but the binds of

Mortality does not lift

and excitement fades

with Life, failing

to elicit the possibility

of what may lie

beyond the stars

of time-locked

Existence.

Creation and Destruction

She smiled at Nothing

as Music stirred Creation;

Nothing smiled back

as Destruction stalked her wake;

Love stirred in the space between

their sinuous dance.

* To hear it: Creation and Destruction, by Chris Galford