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Literature Text
I am a haven for shiva
because there has been no funeral after.
Of the dead under my cad hands, hers
are still soft flesh leaving us,
me. While others have at her
I am a haven for amoebas.
And I remember she was:
a culture, a scavenger, a laissez passer—
of the dead under my padded hands, hers
are still vulture's lungs breathing us,
in. I am not inhaling her, rather
I am a haven for keeping dust.
There was never a moment of eureka!
and epiphany. But the harasser
of the dead are under my bandages: her.
I'll leave her…
I have to have her…
I am a haven for the diva
de los muertos under my cadaver.
because there has been no funeral after.
Of the dead under my cad hands, hers
are still soft flesh leaving us,
me. While others have at her
I am a haven for amoebas.
And I remember she was:
a culture, a scavenger, a laissez passer—
of the dead under my padded hands, hers
are still vulture's lungs breathing us,
in. I am not inhaling her, rather
I am a haven for keeping dust.
There was never a moment of eureka!
and epiphany. But the harasser
of the dead are under my bandages: her.
I'll leave her…
I have to have her…
I am a haven for the diva
de los muertos under my cadaver.
Literature
Apocalypta
Dawn breaks soft,
You are sun glare
in the rearview;
and I, the heavy mist
ahead
on a road that forgets to end.
Literature
Neurological Annihilation
when overload comes, it is the tar
it is a black that coats and annihilates everything clean
it rips off the skin revealing the bloodied tissue beneath
every adipose cell
every muscle fibre
every shred of sanity is vulnerable to cackling callousness and rage
the sound a current which carries all joy and tranquility away
leaving only sorrow, exhaustion and a humble prayer that this end soon
before my limbs, immersed in this cloying dank depression and fever, follow their master - the tar - and cut off their connection to the searing nerve fibres that animate their digits.
one action and it all stops
but that action means there will never be.
Literature
Trying to Clear My Mind
Invisible until,
a smile seen through a window.
A bright light ensnaring a moth.
Handsome, quiet mystery.
Many reasons to walk away,
but... a puzzle and I reluctantly,
obsessed. Trying to turn away,
but piqued by music, art, creativity!
Just let it go, let it go,
why can't I let it go. Filled with curiosity.
The best way out is through.
Must unravel the mystery.
Would he meet for coffee,
a phone call,
a text?
c2018 SAH
Suggested Collections
Trying to make her dead to me. Unrelatedly: another villanelle, not as sure about this one.
shiva - A period of seven days' formal mourning for the dead, beginning immediately after the funeral.
Shiva © 2012 Nic Swaner
shiva - A period of seven days' formal mourning for the dead, beginning immediately after the funeral.
Shiva © 2012 Nic Swaner
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