Saturday, September 19, 2015

Loving Memory

It’s idle time to scare a brain a touch of dalliance.
     We stipple daymares, to savor dynasties, afraid to love.
I feel it like parachutes, to grapple mind, two peers gone.
Many perished, to gain approval, barely nineteen. I
watched, seeking said approval, a young pallbearer. We
tore hell, a flute of prayers, a deathless love. Such zeal—
for a pier of sorrow, an upsurge of rage; for here today, a
touch of fright, to stare into a box. It was hustle, and
drumbeats, and five wounds.
     Friends feuded, to carry guilt, and grog a nightsong. I
love him like home, afraid to speak, a mulatto’s sin.
Would it change, to tremble fear, a day taken by rage. We
ate like friends, to mingle drugs, tripping in three parts.
I saw him, where it opened, a total stranger. It’s a wildlife,
to see for ghosts, acting through limbs. Both are soldiers,
to thresh the night, where money grew.
     It’s still grey, to live it bold, a nightmare brewing. Was
it life, a faceless yearn, as crimson as oxygen? I ask, ever to
mourn, a vile outcome.
     Every deed a ghost, a face for souls, to grieve through
purgatory. We ran for streets, to yearn for more, to pitch in
on a fifty pack. It’s pits for love, hugs for pain, and a brook
of memories. Many sought life, the best of a nightmare, a
group of kids; and many flourished, the wildest turn, nearly
burnt out. I wish to hearts, a changing prayer, to live for love.    

PS.

    The strength to withstand the winds; a spell as it effects/affects some creature. A sudden moment filled with absolute certainty, so wro...