2024-01-04

poetry/h/haru.txt

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+Haru
+2020-12-08
+
+***
+
+the entirety of the heavens
+all spinning through the darkened sky
+so visible since the lockdown began
+severed from car lamps and street lights
+
+not that it is safe to saunter
+through these shadowy streets alone
+so I barricade myself in the first room I can find
+and watch pedestrians' computer screens glow
+
+an ocean of potential portals to Hell
+retrofitted with keyboards and such
+I can't be the only one responsible for this mess:
+the burden would simply be too much
+
+I scour my inner regions raw in the shower
+to punish myself for feeling
+and then, come blood, curse my land
+not given time for healing
+
+this crimson flower that graces my shoulder
+seeks out the rivers that run in my veins,
+the opening to Yomi that feeds off my pain,
+convinced I won't live long enough to grow older
+
+had I existed a thousand years
+earlier, these fingers might have been
+spent weaving reams of fabric, worked
+to the bone, to the point of tears
+
+but a clock hails above me, ticking down to nil
+if only I had batteries so my purpose I could fulfill
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/h/hoarding.txt

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+Hoarding
+2021-07-14
+
+***
+
+kings are we
+this band of three
+our splendor gleams
+for all to see
+
+and we trek on
+to yonder end
+to greet the babe
+in stable pen
+
+some years with legs
+some years without
+lasered glass
+or wooden cutout
+
+Christmas lights
+in constant prayer
+ceaseless trek
+up wooden stairs
+
+every year
+bodies grow smaller
+featureless
+Holy Mother
+
+to ceramic slivers
+we will all erode
+no more gifts for
+us to bestow
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/h/home.txt

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+You Can't Go Home Again
+2021-07-16
+
+***
+
+"Come summer, there will be as much sun
+as anyone
+could ever want,
+and you will have
+all the time in the world
+to open a book and let the pages unfurl."
+
+But I doubt summer will ever come,
+for the winds tug at my hair,
+and the rain waits for no one,
+and I have now lost more than a year
+to someone else's mistake,
+to a whole lot of someone elses' fear.
+
+Can I fight against my nature?
+Can I resign myself to torture
+self-baden, self-scarred,
+severed by far
+from the home
+that is myth,
+that was never my own?
+
+I carry within this body an unspeakable name
+pointing to where lies eternal spring,
+where I could never return
+having earned
+failure's shame
+and the enmity
+of the deity
+I only ever yearned
+to be friends with.
+Only in these books
+can I unfurl my wings,
+can I step once more
+in that town I long forsook.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/h/hotdog.txt

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+hotdog
+2022-06-05
+
+***
+
+Your fur a tawny brown sheen
+seen once in a feverish dream
+when into a sleeping chamber cluster I broke
+and screamed until up you woke.
+
+Lovers shouldn't be sliced into shreds,
+pressed between display glass, vivisection.
+Run away, love. Go feral if you must
+until you're safe and the hours of dawn turn to dust.
+
+I'll bandage the tip of your nose as the birds make a stink
+in the trees. I'll dye one of my father's dogs pink,
+line them and you up in a row, break out the defluffing brush,
+make neapolitan ice cream of shedded fur for their nests.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/h/hutch_of_were.txt

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+Hutch of Were
+2023-04-05
+
+***
+
+Wind advisory
+this evening,
+tearing through the trees.
+Blizzard comes to reave
+the branches, depositing
+them at my bedroom window
+like a bird's offering.
+
+Long the hours grow.
+Snow-hued fingertips
+from nails too short to pierce skin
+under pressure, digging in,
+will soon be overtaken
+by claws the hue of what would flow
+if my nails were any length grown.
+If your eyes are nebulas,
+then earthly suns are in my scleras,
+red giants sliced through the middle to get to the core.
+Miracle the sheets haven't been torn
+to shreds yet, so many curved blades
+that could readily eviscerate
+but lie relaxed, tail curled around my legs.
+Rib cage aches
+right above both sides of my waist.
+When the ribbons fully overtake,
+two more limbs will be there to support my weight.
+
+"Your daughter is a polymorph
+with two known alternate forms.
+There is no cure and not yet a treatment.
+The state
+mandates
+she either accept indefinite time sedate
+or the highest security of imprisonment.
+I'm sorry. I know
+you wanted to take her home."
+
+Had to take the check from the IRS
+I'd rather have spent on things more frivolous
+and wire sensors near my room for security
+somehow without my parents knowing.
+Knock on my door after early warning,
+shifted back before doorknob
+is gazed on.
+I've never had to pay attention
+to mindfulness, but now dampened
+emotions will save me from a prison.
+
+Suffer from the State, or hide
+in the confines
+of your room all the time,
+or be put in a coma for the rest of your life.
+
+Damn fate
+is the same.
+
+Close my eyes and let the ribbons overtake.
+Roll off the bed, stand before moonlit mirror.
+There's a monster on the other side. And I want to know her.
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

poetry/h/hyperloop.txt

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+Hyperloop
+2023-02-23
+
+***
+
+Raido and Algiz
+inverted both mean
+nearly the same exact damn thing.
+But one is push
+while the other is pull:
+extension cord plugged into itself,
+forever either half-full,
+infinite feedback on null.
+
+Straddled over your comatose body,
+chaotic blood draining energy
+and then pushing it back into your veins
+to keep your rivers flowing.
+That's how our relationship always
+plays
+out, freeing each other from Golden Cages
+and recovering our powers of flight
+and saving each other
+from whatever
+problems turn themselves to plights.
+One pushes while the other pulls,
+retrieving water from a well deep but full.
+
+You taught me, when in leg cramp,
+to grab
+my ankle and pull it to my crotch.
+The pain
+would go away,
+but the thick
+stiff
+lump would stay
+until I managed to walk it off.
+I've got a theory
+that's nearly
+the same,
+but I had to wait
+until the full moon came.
+
+If I cycle your energy through all your cells
+and slowly siphon off the excess,
+you won't go feral
+and you'll wake up without destruction's distress.
+
+The woman with the carmine eyes
+awakens with whole body relaxed,
+looks up at her lover, the parasite,
+and whispers, "I think the worst is past.
+I'm so damn grateful you're in my life."
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander