I saw you on the bridge to Purgatory.
Dressed in red,
not devil red but brick,
rust, dried blood red,
accented in black
and copper.
And there behind you, countless lives were burning.
Flames, flaring,
like flowers awaiting,
moths and martyrs.
To spread the pollen
and gospels.
The heat caught my coat, and dry, it flapped like wings.
Massive, hungry,
for the sky’s dominion,
but useless here.
Flight is forbidden
as is faith.
And you as always, are leaving mid glory.
Never staying,
to take your bows, applause
always humble.
So unbecoming,
Angelic.
So…
Where buildings fell, I erect spires and towers
Cold monuments,
to the depths of men’s souls,
taken in trade.
So freely given,
when asked for.
For I have followed you forever my Love.
Each bright cleansing,
chased by foul corruption.
Each bright soul saved
a thousand falling.
Between us.
Copyright 2011 Cutter Murdoch
A dark little corner of the madhouse, where even the screamers whisper. Come in and make yourself as comfortable as you can.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Equal of Heaven
The rain is drums, thunder shaking the earth,
disturbing the sleep of the shallow living,
calling forth primal fears, housed in poisoned marrow,
making everything seem darker, less in their control,
but in the lightning, I find solace.
~
On the border, where trees become wild grass,
then give themselves over to pavement,
standing in the undergrowth, dripping like everything wild,
blinking diamonds from my lashes, dreaming green,
and awful things, I watch you.
~
Broad, powerful feet, toes curled into the bark,
woven anklets, shells, beads, bones, teeth,
talismans and totems, tattoos up over thick legs, weight
like a Buddha, a gorilla god, long arms mapped in scars,
fingers curling idly, remembering war,
love?
~
Dark, summer brown eyes, alive with the storm,
awake, darting to chase the bats through the silver chains,
of rain, up to catch and hold the golden windows,
filled with the semblance of life, calling me,
out from the deep, struggling green.
~
Equal of Heaven, Great and Holy.
Born from a stone, keeper of the great staff,
mystery born of gods and chaos,
I am coming,
and the storm, heralds my approach.
copyright 2011 Cutter Murdoch
disturbing the sleep of the shallow living,
calling forth primal fears, housed in poisoned marrow,
making everything seem darker, less in their control,
but in the lightning, I find solace.
~
On the border, where trees become wild grass,
then give themselves over to pavement,
standing in the undergrowth, dripping like everything wild,
blinking diamonds from my lashes, dreaming green,
and awful things, I watch you.
~
Broad, powerful feet, toes curled into the bark,
woven anklets, shells, beads, bones, teeth,
talismans and totems, tattoos up over thick legs, weight
like a Buddha, a gorilla god, long arms mapped in scars,
fingers curling idly, remembering war,
love?
~
Dark, summer brown eyes, alive with the storm,
awake, darting to chase the bats through the silver chains,
of rain, up to catch and hold the golden windows,
filled with the semblance of life, calling me,
out from the deep, struggling green.
~
Equal of Heaven, Great and Holy.
Born from a stone, keeper of the great staff,
mystery born of gods and chaos,
I am coming,
and the storm, heralds my approach.
copyright 2011 Cutter Murdoch
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