Mother’s Bones

For two or four nights I walked alone
And in my walking I carried my mother’s bones.
She had passed away centuries ago,
But in our day and age
These were some lovely bones

I walked across mountains
But never seas
I trampled over vegetation
But never good mead

And where there was good rest, I asked for it
And the people they always, complimented my good bones.

Yes! I proclaimed, these were the finest bones a man has ever seen
Porcelain in quality, just a lovely sight for
Me.

But two nights past and I felt that I had come a long way
I dropped my mother’s bones and left for some other day.

The Cold

To all I can see
I am unclean
bathing in waters
I shall never leave

Let the cold waters
run through my soul
and find fire within
does it douse it out — no.

Moving on fire
walking on ice
The simplest bridge
towards passion and vice

Told me your hour
was still yet to come
what have we done
but squandered our lonely —
bear with the pain I see, the ocean waves will never cease
And here I know what’s in my soul
It’s nothing I will ever be

So broken and shattered
I’m waiting for you
So making it past me
Is something I knew

And what’s more for me, the evening of death
And where do we stand in loneliness.