Fox got the edge Live life on the veg Critter snatched the eggs Oh shit

Fox got the edge Live life on the veg Critter snatched the eggs Oh shit
Nothing glides upon thinly cut Water Sheet Not young birds washing their fresh belly Or hovering flies to its edge Or the timid fox beneath cover of stars Some rest for those under the surface The lid closed Secrets in The sun out The slice between
Your orange eyes are all I see when I think of Firm ice holding Your shape For it will end To melt is to know How it was to play In the winter cold Surely it is better To have sticks for arms Than to have lived Without them Though your time is brief It must be worth Joy Made You will topple and tumble To a puddle Regular and Ordinary But you will have lived Come and gone Your swift Gift
It arrived under cover of night A blanket of white as if to hide With a layer of gentle ice Misgivings from the day gone Washed away by a sea of bright Eyes blink and squint with light Better suited to summer days Of sun and fun and yellow Layers of sun kissed snow Hold events passed beneath For a brief time I will forget and play As the sound of children wake me A new world for morning As the sun rises and begins to chip And the chilly snow drips From the day Not before long or delay White turns to grey to black And back to its state of Wet cold and frozen air As if by magic this day Returns to its usual way Without snow or play We will wait
The arch of day bends to heavenly light Past the wanderous eye of a child To the chill of flesh grown out Our chance begs to come alive Though years gone hold us to Frozen choices made in time past Dreams of a youth so eloquently felt Swept under roots of rotting self The sweet curse of time rolled
His greying wings flake Above blistered air To send him Into peace that settles Up there With a slight tilt Direction sets Momentum holds Without sound He descends An ordinary bird Of the common park Proudly patrols These parts Of his sky To watch Passing land For what might Risk His place Of importance Statue And the coming of his Proudest Time He will fly To protect Love And care The December sky
Sweet petals erupt in my ear Drums that softly rattle and Rustle my quickening soul Angelic high notes Composed from the throats of children Too young to know beauty Open water now frozen Surrounds their home Under attack Yet beneath warm shrubs Small birds I cannot name Sing Their hearts bleed joy From their lips A chilling chirp A moment Everlasting in Song For no one And Everyone But no one is here
I am marinated by Whispers from a God I can only hear Upon the crushing of hope And breaking truths A meat vehicle Your flesh to enact A vision I do not see Cannot see without Your echoing sound What am I My skin is split To obey Come what may Come my way Where does this spiralling soul Meet it’s end I beg you to Tell me or I’ll Cast off Break from your steer Be free of your fist I will outlast I will Run To what? To you? To the life you made? To the ideals I now must now define? To the emptiness? I am meat Your vehicle Whether I choose to or not I am Yours
From the gallows she bubbles Creatures and features Of the mutty water God only knows How such pleasure Erupts from her wickedness Beneath the surface Sacrifices are made To feed her trunk The gerth that needs filling Night or day Hope or pray Carcus and thinning skin Rot, green and brown Float down To a bellowing end The inevitability of fate Her system of governance On and on Turning dark into drink That spawns her It repeats Taking life Giving life For upon her reluctant out stretched arms, Bluetits rest Toads hide in her darkened pockets Herons perch on her weary head And Spiders crawl on her bulging base All this Her sacrifice A heart does rest Beneath layers of crumpled leafs But it remains asleep and forgotten For her dark rhythmn And deathly cycle Is all she’ll ever know
The colour of pain Blood Red and black spilt Upon naked canvas No The days of suffering Do not touch me Here My flesh is clean It rests In minds and memories Plagued I do not seep from skin Nor does an aching heart Pierce blue from A chest This pain lives in spirit When it bleeds It leaves no residue No evidence No colour Only knowledge That it was there Once Only a witness Who felt it Come and Go