Groundless footing

Stop twisting dammit!
You illegitimate thorn
always prickling at the flesh
your kisses a bloody swarm,
you ride me all the day long
everywhere I choose to seek
you point out all the failings
and grin shit from every cheek,
such a tiny little scar you are
that tears with every breadth
wreaking scoffing embellishments
like fish caught in a net,
they scour every piercing view
and wiggle away perspective
nothing new under the sun
new guise but same collective.

A life to tell the tale

Let us not forget the shadows way
when the Earth itself does crawl
where the waters run cold and still
that twist of blade upon the flesh;
running deep as a cutting shrill,
it cuts beneath the layers of skin
that gently cuddles above the bone
moving past the muscles flesh
till it reaches the death of home,
grips and knuckles seize to cry
at the wavering, loosening soul
eyes roll back in the fear of awe
as the veil opens wide for the whole,
and then the darkness it does approach
with its tendrils and lingering note
scraping along an endless mass
the skin goes pale and dry the throat.

“And where in life did it hold its worth
oh little little twisting soul
was the heart your sailing vessel
love and care its giving goal?
Or were the worms of want and need
your hunger over the starving
anger, hate, and bigotry
poison seeds of greedy farming?”