Free
Verse
Check the
Wreckage
Skidding sideways
hydroplaning down the rain slicked
highway on a monday morning four
days before friday the thirteenth
when the black bullets of night lay
scattered around the nightstand in
blissful disarray of all the diamond
rays of sun soon to come.
You've seen it
the door made of light
what happens when you go through
said the oracle and neo just looked
at her quizzically
that's how I feel most days now as
a strange burning love grows like a
heavenly virus inside me unstoppable
by the hands of time clicking ticking
along in a crooked rhyme.
The alarm bells of venus
sound in aztec chimes that
falls and then climbs in the dulcet tones
of voodoo skeletons unearthed in
cemeteries overflowing with the
pale white bones of who and what used to be
called smith and jones.
Buckle up baby or hit the road
she whispered and I shielded my eyes
from the coppery glare of
the mountains rocky stare high above
the places where only eagles dare.
Her lithe body danced svelte and shimmered
in the dying phoenix embers of a sun
that barely lit what would soon be undone.
She channeled a psychic medium
through her fingers into the ouija board
where hieroglyphics swam in seas of
turquoise waves buoyed by only the best
of neptune's briny slaves.
Under a moon full and flush with the red
runes that pull and gush at the slightest
tinge and twinge of the gate as it swings
on hinges that must be rusty with the sultry
echoes of nights powerful hush
she looked up at me and I could see
the jeweled crosses in her gothic eyes
on fire and licking slowly up
loves highest spire.
Melting pushing slamming softly into
the couches of desire in cushions of
passion flung wild and random in the
haste to taste the rare flowers of forever
brought back dripping wet from the edge
of tomorrow where they grow in silent
foliage towering green and gold into
skies rife with the rapture of hidden surprise.
Uncurling unfolding uncoiling unrolling
her tongue her arms her legs her secrets
silver and purple in the nocturnal niceties
of those extravagant spices only shown
when the plumed serpent of day has flown.
Arrows of destiny are hers to control while
sparrows of hedonism sit caged and coy
and in her lap growls the spirit of man
calm and safe as long as she is unshaken
by the whims and moods of the stars shaking
and falling in long arcs of angels with burning wings
falling down through the clouds to come to rest
at her feet in supplication and the devotion
of orchids pure of the poison of the commonplace.
She seems to push my speedometer harder
into the red zone into the dangerous region
where death is legion and pain is in season
its the edge of reason its the insanity
of love striking the match in a room
full of gasoline when all the oxygen
has been sucked out and the only thing
you can see is her eyes glowing in the dark
twin fireflies of blinking sparks.
Braking hard on the curves of today
I can sense the road ahead is winding
turning with sheer drops down to nameless depths
of rocky collisions but somehow she keeps it
all together even as the bolts are coming
unscrewed and the rivets shear off and the frame
cracks under the force of gravity pulled down
and out of the wheel as it turns in my head
from left to right but never straight
its impossible to concentrate when her body
moves in the way of all flesh.
Rearview glances can never account for all
the kisses she gave me as the needles rose
the steam poured forth and the rubber squealed
in the scream of machines grinding against
the universes guardrails scraping the paint off
the smooth exteriors of metal and glass coating
our daily lives to reveal the chassis of our
coming together in a lovers embrace jump started
in the race to the finish line where
god only knows what tattered checkered flags
are waving up and down in the haze
its all we can do to
keep our eyes on the road these days.
She always knows when to reach over and
shift the gears of my emotions into overdrive
before I can slide onto the gravelly fears and
sorrows I have left in the trunk all these years
she wipes the tears with her little finger from
my face and removes all trace of the empty space
rattling around on the back seat.
Someday we will crash and burn hot
someday we will run out of fuel
someday we may even come to grips
with the fact that the planets no longer
align with our hearts but I have a feeling
we have an endless supply and even if we do
smash into the wall I can see her climbing
out of the flames and strolling back to me
with her hair on fire her eyes on fire
her body on fire her heart on fire
and the words on her sweet lips
I can read through the smoke
because she never backs down she
never gives up she never will stop
she is the eternal hourglass in the form
of woman who can resurrect me from
the charred remains of the mundane
with the simple words flung into the wind
oh my god we left our souls back there
we'd better go back and
check the wreckage.
