:::beside the good:::

fall i could,
but never steal.
shadows fade, the gallow is real
strikes the blow that will never heal..
atonement for sin with blood and bone
turn your head briefly...love leaves me alone.

heed the sound
of Abbey's bell
deceit walks sweetly the souls to hell
trips for those where others fell
onward march and eyes to yourself
if love had come or not at all
i think you would have known.

the ancient know
your battles fought
they keep the place that you were bought
prepare for silence..cease tremble and thought
if want remains when all is lost
i think that i will know.

:::communique in August:::

I show the pieces
each in time
side by side
they form a line
an ordinary straight it seems
does dance but slightly in between
the mechanism of your love
a chamber ghost
the bed still warm
the sheet off white
my eyes have cried
do not make known
the truth inside
this coyness that you
stumble past
with gaunt eyes searching
stone for glass
will coil your neck and shatter fist
a girl you see
the serpents kiss
your babbling mouth
should warn you sir
communique
do not disturb.
now you must dress for the fall
the heads shall roll
the roll is called.

:::lithe:::

wisper softly
humid air
blood won't burn
a body there
blue protects
white is pure
circle open
close and cure
gentle kiss
behold this night
see through my eyes
until the light
moon does guide
sun does warn
the fleeting shadows
and do no harm
earth to ash
and stone to bear
the sacred path
your journey fair
hand to forehead
hand to breast
my hand in yours
now cross
now rest

 

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::

:::itchy joe:::

the epitome
explanation
a foretelling of sorts
laid for my eyes
of which i abhor
take ratchet
and tight
spin  round, tension
and hold for u now
come bastard
come quick
stay seated
while u beg
a ripple in fate
a turn of your neck
stay seated
white gluttony
above u i stand
and sleep...
for u darkly
in every new moon
and one for your last
as the iron hits the spoon
and with weak breath i push
the iron to the fire
and the evil which damns you
take life and expire.

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::

:::for want of nothing:::

stand,
I am now walking down
a silent moment stolen now,
the sun is forceful to my eye
my breath beats hard
with water I hide
tears are somber, but gone I wish
I make them my last
sail rotted ship
I guess in truth
they're all the same
the light is usual
the window frame
key symbolic
of this meaningless vault
a symphony of void
a love that i've lost
but had only imagined
and thought was real
but so easily leaves me
with nothing to feel
stand guarded child,
never reveal
never assume
never again. 

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::

:::in service:::

there is solace here
i climbed into your lap
beneath canopies of wisteria
under a blanket
within the stars
earth black
and evening humming
like wet tongues in ears
for the first time and around
and in the morning i see clearly
then you cover my eyes with yours
quiet now,
hand to mouth
and evermore,
the ties they bind
a walking floor
watch you above me
is love in light
softly move down
again wait for the night.

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::

:::prose from the beach in february:::

i can see Orion in August.
i feel humidity tangling my hair,
pulling it as a lover, and holding fast.
i feel naked sinking into deep wet sand.
i take Orion in a breath...
can my breath push against the oceans endless whisper?
perhaps the oceans whisper is a rage,
a passion...
could this breath i exhale...
can it reach the heavens by incidental experiment,
and in doing so make light from darkness?
with this breath i sing sweet and pure
i touch my body and i know that it is a corpse,
i take spirit and thought and exhale
in doing so i kiss Orion and a truth is revealed,
this makes me alive, transcendent and clean.
everything i have, take now...
everything i would want, i cannot bear to think of....
i need nothing save this peace, stillness,
and a mouth upon mine,
take this insipid life,
turn it out with your breath
and let go...
the dreams drift lazily back down from the heavens,
from Orion's bow they were cast,
to heal? to make true? to discover...
within our hearts they lie down
and remain
in August
now i see.

:::amber.hart.sinclair:::