Tag Archives: the war in your head never ends

Testament Of Witches

Lawson McGhee Library on a Friday Morning. Mental health day.

A real one. The demons and furies and mad, guilt stricken mobs

all out in the open prairie, beneath the holy bowl, in my mind.

The sun is soft, but growing hot, in the simple, one pane windows,

as I sit, trying to dream a new dream that lets me escape, not fear

the light and heat of the coming summer, all the poisons sweated out.

Hide in the thick and close non-fiction stacks, away from the windows,

and most other people and their nitpicking and accusatory eyes of green.

I look for the testament of witches, the last words of a blasphemous prophet.

And I don’t like the wide open places, too like the prairies without cover,

easy prey for the demons and beasts and the stars that tear your soft flesh.

Deep in the stacks. Deep in the quiet. Deep in words not motivated by lust.

And evening falls, the most cruelly banal part of the day, the deadest inside.

And I must walk in open territory of The Fort, with my demons, and with drunks.

A book I carry my finally reveal the Words of God, in a dark and raging story.

Tough Fists

Tough fists shadow boxing in an alley.
Valley of Death, valley of loss, of night,
closing in, punching the dark strips
of the night, unburned by the stars.
 She is sweating, tired and taut, wire
pulled too tight over too far a distance.
The shadows are coming down, eternal.
She might break and snap open the sky.
 Silent, but there are sirens, laughing drunks,
and distant music, and people who are free.
Silent, but the darkness in her head, in her life,
the shadows getting hooks in her flushed skin.
 What can she fight, that cannot be touched,
cannot be lost like sanity and love and passion,
that lingers forever in these nights and heartbreak?
Fighting others in the ring will be over, be won.
 But shadows never leave, only cast back by momentary light.
And light fades, and becomes distant, and leaves us defenseless.
She boxes the shadows coming down on her, on her world.
Never ending, never defeated, just pushed back, for a moment.
 A laugh. A touch. A kiss. But always waiting, always roaring back in the night.