Poems and Prose #65 - Unity

Amidst the twinkling quiet of night,
a nihilist's requiem absorbs errant light.

Entangled in shadows, the faces flex tight,
while clouds feast together on burnt beasts of flight.

In due time, indeed, these skies will dissolve,
as into night each day's sun will fall.

But in the soft morning, you'll hear the call
of manifold nothings compressed into a ball.

Poems and Prose #64 - Mollified

Atop a hill,
the wind passes through me,
carrying fresh-born air
into me.

A sentry
in this scene of beauty,
to leap right now
would seem my duty.

Poems and Prose #63 - Crawl

Wishes withheld,
   now defunct,
slumber soundly
   in this trunk.

On my knees,
   I raise the lid,
the wood's moan
   a lonely fib.

Inside lie
   the trinket stacks,
sepia pictures,
   and cockroach tracks.

In this room
   consumed by dusk,
I pass each piece
   a labored touch.

Poems and Prose #62 - Aloof

A new moon hangs
   beneath the clouds,
shielding starlight
   from the ground.

I find my pupils
   large and round,
and but for echoes,
   there's no sound.

Traipsing on a
   moss-draped mound,
seeking stuff
   that might astound,

My focus shifts
   from up to down,
that black disc
   my lantern now.

Dialogue #8 - Transparency

(+) Where do you hide?
(-) Where no one can see me.
(+) Then why are you
       always here?
(-) Because I'm well aware
       of man's visual limitations.

Poems and Prose #61 - Scrapple

I draw the curtains shut,
to fill the room with dark,
and let myself be sheathed in dust,
the particles my lasting mark.

Poems and Prose #60 - Half-Past

Timing instruments
mark some space,
the sense of which
is fast erased.

Watch-watchers will
here now find encased,
within this tool,
a blemished face.