Halt

In the iron light of winter
not a leaf flapping, not a bird.

Trees here. Trees bare,
all that remains of color.

Something else is alive,
a doe faces me unafraid.

All that remains of words
slipping from its eye corner.

The same loneliness
lifted our weight from the ground.

Blue is the sound
of its breath, but mine is red.

To stay sane
it will never comprehend me.

Condemned
I will never touch its head.

It is just as well.

Livelier, it steps outside
our evil scene.

 

 

Listen to “I say Live”

I say Live

Your faith
is a dead weight
upon the living,
a dot at the end
of a vacant line,
your faith
smells of rot
under headstones.

You claimed
that I was your god,
and as you do for whores,
made up my name,
and as you do for dogs,
called me any name
until I was ill-famed.

Your love is pure
the way cruelty is pure,
sharp as an abstraction.
Your love always
calls for a cessation.

I don’t know
what to do
with this misconception.
I don’t need
the agonies
of your religions.

I have no more end
than beginnings
I have no name
but that of your flesh.
Your own flesh
you should love
beyond hope.
I am that I am.

In my fire,
there’s no longing
for ash.
I am.
I can do no harm.

Little Eden – Booklet (Click on the image )