Sunday, February 11, 2018


how many people watched her die and
cheered her on cause she was so Good
figured she was too good to age
cracked that bottle open before she was ripe
her spirit grown old before the rest of her
outpaced her time on this plane
took her cascading down the shrunken rivulets of Joy
the battered body careening from stone to stone
how many people watched her disintegrate
and celebrated her death-defying leap
from the heights of her voice and vision
to the jagged depths
      how many?


Sunday, February 4, 2018

Memento Mori

the dead girl I didn’t know
time’s orphan
eyes fixed in painted stare
feet bare to walk the path of light
hands yet entangled in the stuff of a life
to steal the diamonds from the eyes
of those still trying to capture
to hold her

sweet summer child
what exactly were you thinking?

our species in peril along with all others
the biosphere changes
            doesn't cease to exist
life always returns
in one form or another
unless or until it doesn't
my prayers are for future generations
our children to the 7th generation
who will see the devolution
of societies
of polities
                        of economies
and experience the anomie
that has always been at the edge of the broken world
inhabited by poets and dreamers

temples to godhead built
from the stones and bones of the Mother
the voices of eons of souls
interred in her capacious womb
crying out for remembrance
as memory crumbles away
leviathan asphalt skin suffocates the clamor
 the demands to acknowledge the fine roots
the web of tomorrow’s juicy appetites

tangled roads of history winding
through the unplumbed depths of Now
birdsong like glass shards sparking the electric dawn

I touch the hieroglyphics of your skin with my fingertips
hills and hollows
ridges scars and rough spots
like a blind woman learning Braille
seeking the answers to whispered questions

darkness falls like an act of mercy
how far can you fall into Nothing or roll away
the stone from the cave of the heart
loneliness of a shooting star burns a trail
the maddening smile of the Void

© 2018 pamela twining