JaySpeirs

Big hands take hers, Enveloping their smallness In Worldly encompassment. Large grin in Wooden irises. If he has her way… He has Years curving his Eyes, Crawling through his Veins. He bows to fretful Gods. Forehead to cool Marble, Burning as they Bow. -he is Warm, so, so warm.- She smiles. In her Eyes she Smiles. The woken Beast To the smell of Blood and Distress. She is Young and Light. She speaks of Angels and Fish. She breathes. He wants to Taste her breath. He lives through Fresh Flesh. The strange sounds of Inner Night Meeting Outer Light. He hums, Dripping Words close, Closer upon her Tender prey.

The golden coin that strikes his empty pail, Reflects his clear blue eyes as he laments, That bank, so open to the elements, And all its contents; savings doomed to fail. Like flint on steel, that token spawns a spark. He holds the treasure like his crumpled will; Like driftwood on the sea, believing still, He shall fulfill his own escape from dark. As strangers pass, he polishes his prize, With just the baggy shirt that forms his bed, Lofty aspirations in his head, And bright, ambitious red that cracks his eyes. So eagerly, he wants to play the games, With well-groomed people, laughing in the light. His coin permits him to enga

Heritage I am from the hill that lies between two valleys, the family of the mountains the family of the mill. I am from the hand mangled by the threshing machine My grandfather's blood mixed with age old land I am from the fireplace banter, the pslams of time, of David, Ishmael and Babylon, the closely knit Covenanters. This is what I am: The hill, the hand, the Covenanter A child of the land

The primroses won't bloom. This I know because the chairs are empty And the garden wilts under dandelion tyrants, So their yellow, yellow sunglossed lips Will have no audience For their parched, operatic psalms to dust over.

I have made a home In the bones of literature, shackled up by words and psychotropic affliction-- Though I promise nothing Tangible to show for it. A meandering sense of pride Sordid in it's directional absence Or blunt tipped arrows slung From behind Kabuki-mask barracks. A chameleon familiar, translucent, Barking a cry of train brake screeches; Reluctantly symbiotic, metallic forces. Side Quests are far less gallant Beyond their faerie tale novella syntax: It is more noble for a knight to wield a blade Than a discolored Pawn Who never wanted to be a warrior. Defenses manifest themselves, unwarranted, as inexorable Man-Behi

Somewhere in light from autumn leaves We all fall down. Underground like artificial suns, The heat from chemistry kits Will not reach our surfaces Intact, but shattered Like scarlet prisms in Sleek shop windows. In the reflecting glass, In conversations you've never had, What sort of thing might you promise To save your life? And how high an admission Might you pay to see the World burn from the inside? (Leave it to our dear friend, tragedy, to make an honest woman out of me.) In that city soot, Would the people still huddle 'round their doubt? (Or spin around the round-a-bout,) Or crowd into the stadiums To see what all

As the world turns slowly, fixed, Then comes to stop with great unease, I'd happily idle by and wait. Let the chips fall where they may, On that eventful judgment day As meteors leave stardust trails, On course to crash with our great seas, I'd remark, "What a pretty sight," And count my blessings where they stand, That they had sense to dodge the land. Skies grow red with sunset hues, As nuclear fire screams through night. I'd admire that pretty shade, Top off my glass of cold ice tea, As much content as one can be. When all rests under crystal ice, Our climate drowned in Arctic snow, I'd fondly watch the snowflakes fall. S

The Rain pelted a misty street, The Night kept watch of shuffling feet, Then Time hushed still all their heartbeats, Stopped all, but us, in place. Those shining Opals kept aloft, Held light and gravity, so soft. Alone, the two of us were caught, In marvel of its grace. I plucked one Drop, from stagnant air, That sparkled, shone with vibrant flair, Which, in an outstretched palm, with care, I offered it to you. Your eyes did shine with youth's unrest, Your modest grin, it suits you best. You held the Raindrop near your chest, As if dreams did come true.        ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~