My God, My Heart!

Midway into the core,
we see the broken wings of God
spilling in large red goblets into the stars that,
for no reason,
burn as gelid glaciers into the pulsing mystery of space!

My blood raves,
my heart ignites.

I will not chop off my ear,
but empyrean has shattered,
submerged me into a calloused dream of arctic light;
an aphotic stare of an ocean reflected with
silent shards of

murmuring milk and
malachite mist!

The murmur, like a cannonade of meteor bursts
across the eastern sky, reverberates
through my veins.

The mist, crepuscular and dense with the thoughts
of a billion tiny and ethereal lights, jingles
on down plasmatic lanes.



In the dark the floor boards rattle
and the wind creaks through the rotting wood.

You live,
you die,
and in between
the fury is the stream the animals drink from
as decay sets in
with the dirt and fog and poison,
the bitter worms,
the swamp swarming inch by inch
from experience
up the clearing
where the structure stood.

It rocked and bent to the bog
saluting it's fierceness and greatness
knowing it was more than it could stand.
Like an old moral,
or an old truth,
sacrificed and let loose
for some great cause,
or some great lie.