Mephisto exists within my own heart

In the black-veined passages that

Disguise their means, in the rib-stashed

Furnace replete with incinerated flowers

I consume all who would trespass on this

Seething womb through the appropriation

Of false intimacies, all who bare the graceless

Articulations of the Sybarite, I will not not

Lie  in your bed as upon a sacrificial altar

And you will know neither my flesh nor

My vision


Do not place your hands, as if in clay, upon my

Soul. I will not be rendered misshapen under

Your artistic vanity. I have no use of your

Dead Sea dreams, the saline of a love-struck

Narcissus lost in his reflection as it rests

Upon my eyes, unseen. I have no use of

Smiles, silk-spun, that would ensnare,

Of words double-sided that adhere lips

And tongue to back-alley promises that

Can not endure the light of morning


Only one whose intentions are sincere could

Unlock these wrought-iron doors and find heaven


This is a bit older actually but its hard to write when you can’t see that well



My prayers hang from the sickle

Of an unjust moon, dread being

Silent I no longer know to what

End I should attach my hope

I was not ready for the nightfall

But there was no way I could

Condemn you to remain on

The verge of departure


I can only cry when

Gripping both hands

Upright. How do you

Pronounce goodbye

When a plea for mercy

Sounds like a summons

For murder?


My eyes sink starless into an

Unwashed canvas, eclipsed

By cheekbones that grow in

Famine. My smile no longer

Connects to the flow of blood

But hangs on loosely like a

Partially severed limb. I wear

It in defense against those

Who would commiserate


I can only cry when

Gripping both hands

Upright. How do you

Pronounce goodbye

When a plea for mercy

Sounds like a summons

For murder?


The darkness has arrived

In the embrace of those

We loved, but there is no

Consoling a loneliness

That can only be appeased

By the one newly departed
The days we shared are unclear

Now, cobwebs lace my dreams

In the strands of light between

The woman that I knew flickers

Sphinx-like behind my vision, the

Photographs are still, reticent in

Their wooden frames I can no

Replay accurately their depictions


Only my heart holds the shapeless,

Indestructible essence of my love and

Here deep inside this sighing vessel you

Nest, a nocturnal bird given to lullaby


I chose Stevie Nick’s “Nightbird” as a child I doubt I understood the lyrics and even if I had a dim impression it would be years before I saw cancer. My step-fathers family has a heavy genetic predisposition for cancer, now in his 80s (he is 28 years older than my mom) he’s seen every one of his siblings battle and in all but one case succumb not to just one type of cancer but to multiple types simultaneously. I have lived with the dying. As an adult I still love Stevie Nicks but this song now has a much deeper meaning for me. I wrote a poem as I am not remotely musical.

Prompt 4 Music


This week’s challenge is to choose a song from the decade of your birth and allow it to inspire you. Your poem/song/story may end up being a memory sparked by the song, a commentary on the decade, or a tribute piece to the song/artist itself. As a child music was my escape, my means of coping with a nearly unbearable existence and before writing there was singing. I was and am a horrible singer but music brought me joy and as I was born in the singularly embarrassing 1980s music was playing on every street, every moment of everyday or so it seemed to me lol For my piece I chose Stevie Nicks because I used to listen to her records daily (yes records!). You do not need to include a video/audio link for your song though it would be a nice addition to the post but you do need to include the name of the song and artist so that we can seek it out.