~brethren misguided~

03/03/2012

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~damned to be rabid dog bitten~
~the twisted vein at the business end of a needle~
~molested by someone’s older sister~
~or was it your own~
~alone in the bathtub~
~the only one in the room~
~cryptococcus in the tomb~
~c’mon l’il girl~
~got somethin’ for ya~

~brethren misguided~ 
~the woman has broken his heart~
~says she loves him too much to love him~
~unable to say goodbye~
~she refuses to say hello~
~the mystery of gender is elusive~
~islands are free as they stand~
~defenseless in the face of tides~

~the loss of love is a nearer death~
~as its constituents are breathing still~
~a double suicide as it were~
~grief, a shifting wall of shadows~
~the pallbearers were blindfolded~
~united in their stilted, stiff-gait stride~
~a corpse enters & owns any room~

~he longs to be the last man standing~
~the whole damned world has gone to sleep~
~the refrigerator and tick tock clock~
~growl through his sleepless insomniac mind~
~is a wizard buried under a dead tree~
~whose roots strangled the life from him~
~when he attempted to ingest its seeds of knowledge~

~he is the prefect of loneliness~
~a crowded voice in an empty room~
~ten-penny wishes on saturday night~
~the tinsel voice of the woman says I love you~
~as recorded on the telephone machine~
~so long as you promise to stay away~
 ~& realize I need not to need you~

~his flesh is onion skin stretched~
~o’er the starched bones of mediocrity~
~a spider web bouncing on his eyes~
~whose maker has seen who he is~
~& eaten her way through his brain~
~is a thin masque veil of death smoke~
~rising from the fading ember life~


~she told him & his brother~
~tostand up & act like men~
~they argued, fought over bananas~
~chased naked women up & down halls~
~life gets swallowed by alleys~
~mad dogs on the moon~
~he said he was glad she was dead~
~either a lie or the tears in his eyes~

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©graphic artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
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~Birds I View~

01/16/2012

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~singing in the loft~
~balcony~
~feathers dripping dew~
~& doo on you~
~wings fluttering~
~talons grasping~
~a circling retreat~
~dive of vengeance~
~masters of survival~
~reptilian spore~
~lizard wings wizard~
~tongue in beak cawing~
~dripping aeon~
~a limbing gasp~
~egg fertilization~

~Birds I View~


~whomever hears a choir~
~must needs long for noel~
~just so...  those inclined toward~
~the voices of birds~
~listen for spring~
~as one might any day sing~
~yet exalt in the clamor~
~of rich pitch soprano~
~& tenor rising~
~on alto bass legs to soar~
~all ways speak an air of wing~

~there were five this morning~
~whose dark coat raven~
~one more bearer await the pall~
~together badger the hawk~
~make a meal of its prey
~caw, caw, caw the hunter~
~they strut in magnificent jest~
~whose eyes four hundred years~
~they live each & longer even~
~unimpressed by fate~
~scavengers & better for it~

~such are the birds I view~
~gray tongues wagging lament~
~threatening at once to land~
~that the sky would fall~
~to bury its stick pins~
~ebon cloak named night~
~these bits of blue/black~
~lift the mantle & fear not~
~that gone unexplained~
~its quick reason~
~a dark eye bead~
~such are the birds' eye view~

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
Birds I View was published in  Newsletter Inago
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~Brethren Misguided~

10/09/2011

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~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: IV~

~damned to be rabid dog bitten~
~the twisted vein at the business end of a needle~
~molested by an older sibling~
~alone in the bathtub~
~alone in the room~
~cryptococcus in the tomb~
~c’mon l’il girl~
~got somethin’ for ya~

~Brethren Misguided~  

The woman has broken his heart, says she loves him too much to love him.  Unable to say goodbye, she refuses to say hello.  The mystery of gender is elusive.  Islands are free as they stand, defenseless in the face of tides.

The loss of love is a nearer death, as its constituents are breathing still, a double suicide as it were, grief, a shifting wall of shadows.  The pallbearers were blindfolded, united in their stilted, stiff-gait stride.  A corpse enters and owns any room. 

I have a longing to be the last man standing.  The whole damned world has gone to sleep.  The refrigerator and tick tock clock growl through the mind of the insomniac.  The wizard is buried under the dead tree whose roots strangled him to death when he ingested seeds of knowledge.

I am the prefect of loneliness, a crowded voice in an empty room, ten-penny wishes on Saturday night.  The voice of the woman says I love you, as recorded on the telephone machine, so long as you promise to stay away, realize I need not to need you. 

My flesh is onion skin stretched o’er the starched bones of mediocrity, a spider web bouncing on my eyes whose maker has seen who I am and eaten her way through my brain is a thin masque veil of death smoke rising from the fading ember life.

She told us to stand up and be men.  We argued, fought over bananas, chased naked women up and down the halls where life is swallowed by alleys, mad dogs with moons in their eyes.  He said he was glad she was dead.  Only I saw the lie in the tears in his eyes.

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com & wordwulf@wordwulf.com
© artwork & words conceived by & property of Tom (WordWulf) Sterner ©
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