The Eyes That Haunt the Flower Beds

My roots crack the concrete

and I stand planted by the poolside

in mid July sun screamin’

daylight that echoes back on the rippling surface

that dances and jiggles

with bodies stripped and swimming

blood and chlorine separated by thin layers of skin and fabric

plump and swelling heads tanned-brown and red-burned

hooded in water skin, break through and peak above

only to go under again hiding from the gaze

arms thrashing and feet kicking tepid splashes

a heart flails like someone drowning

each echo a scream that curves ‘round the horizon

of the body of a youth

That usurps the world

a world in that world

in which the world is larger

and the impossible set free

and the sunshine captured

in which I am trapped underneath

the eternal sun

brown hair and tanned skin

she was not a sight nor smell nor sound

but the petals of a fire in me.

Tomorrow then I turned ten

and never was the same

before, the sun and moon ne’er disagreed

one rose and fell for the other

now the sun rises and falls only to rise again

the moon the same, their light naught for themselves

shining on the same earth but not the same ground

a golden ring between our eyes

an aureole

both shattered and perfect

for the first time I felt my skin wrapped tightly about me

for the first time I knew my own face

looking at the violent surface

stabbed, crashed, and broken

blood spilling on hot concrete

one thinks this violence was always there

that life began in late spring

and pools don’t lie quiet

eager to be breached in early morn

and dirty and tired in the evening

that only a violent heart beats and does not rest

in a body with dry mouth and the feeling of clamminess about the hands

despite being soaked to the bone

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

A train gallops February afternoon, and screeches a sigh in time

hauling hearts and minds and memories that settle in foggy dreams

as on the bottom of a lake forced to stand still.

But a summer sun pierces through the clouds

black hair, black coat, black bag, and a smooth walk

stealthy and dangerous the panther stalks

another purple flower bursts through the ground

a necrophage blossom to die in the searing sun

it needs a place dark, earth damp wetted by blood

so tempted am I to eat it, to shelter it, and become death

suffocated by a perfume whos fumes blot the sky

with a dark purple ink

the sun becomes the moon

and under a dark sky grows

the torporous lavender blossoms who exude

the sweet stench of death.

Eat them and despair, and rejoice

for you shall enjoy eternal life

seated across on a crowded train

she raised her head and it blooms

revealing a pistil of eyes

and stems as snakes

had I wings I might fly

but I was shocked frozen condemned to my fate

an empty look and an empty smile and empty words lost to time

but there will forever be that golden lily

a memory who blooms only as the sun sets

standing stubborn against the dark sky

and I crush the Goldbloom for its pride

golden thunder shocks up my heels and pierces my heart

and it is threaded there

patchwork for a heart threadbare

and I die an exploding sun

shining upon the field

with a reply

In each pair of eyes lies a promise

to restore the logic of the heavens

or to crash beyond a crystal sky to

where heaven and hell are but dreamers of our dream.