fire

perhaps,
perhaps i do not understand word painted imagery
they travel like needles tattooing on my memory
reminding me of repeated failure, grace where be?

sometimes the fires rise across me, playing me
she whispers these things into my ear, coaxing
who are you girl, here, have another pearl

did you hear the horn blower shout?

i cannot focus here, eyes upon those fiery remains,
rainbowed ashes sweetly strewn across feet of gold
toppling, toping me
i try too hard to say the right thing, be the right thing
do the right thing, what is the right thing?
remind me again

the potential shown in these lines, oh show me
show me,

beating myself blue among your feathered history,
unglued this vagabond heart playing, plying
my tattered trade of soul pearls strung along silver tongue,
i vomitous spew this nonsense into the electric world

the stings of images that go nowhere, disinterested
as you read, these strung up words
perhaps, these are too? these worlds echoes of myself
both beating heart and berated shots in the dark
for your pleasure, for your pleasure i spin and twirl

my voice cracks in two
halves, i have not the knowledge

born blind, my questions whispered to you, seeking
lessons murmured only shadowy perceived dronings
those lullabies tuned to make this waker sleep

horn blower shout!

these pleasantries wear me, doubt waxing exponential
my curiosity bleeds anxiety blooming in thorny weeds
they flourish among tangled webs, knotted flowers
in this untended garden
these fettered lines cut in bleeding
blah, blah, blah, bleeding me

why can’t you ever make anything beautiful, oh show me
show me
i am sorry, was there something beautiful in me
that you wished to see, remind me

the draw is great to stare into these flames, to memorize
leading lines seductive, falling open into my demise
wholehearted, i am the string she pulls her pearls upon
the fractured line of knots and twirls spinning for your
pleasure, for your pleasure

where is the shout horn blower?

i don’t know that i will last long here with these fires
licking along my bones coaxing my ignite, eyes melting
in lines staring into this

my desire, this stare-down death-match crackles, cackling
into sparks sent laughingly upon me, in this potential place
shamed by grace as she falls upon me, reaping

perhaps, i may need to close my eyes, take a breath and break
spilling the lines of pearls, let them fall away from me
these sweet things strewn that topple me into flames
i may float away on plumes of words and rise to consume
my own blackened heart which aches to spark