The Grim Reaper visits me in the heat
of noontime, black cloak passing
sun’s rays into my eyes, blinds me.
I cannot see (why) the Reaper is here,
picking this time in bitter sunshine to
hoarsely whisper sweet nothings.
A bone-white face, cruel, he opens
his jagged mouth and screams, the sound
smashes windows, makes babies cry.
The moon is the queen, sky mother
The sun is the king, sky father
They love and they need each other
I pray, seeking to uncover
The secrets of their true wonder
How they shine, oh, so brilliantly
How they love us, yes, distantly
They make love during their eclipse
See the bright touching of their lips
Their love endures, persistently
Depression comes fast
like a thief in the dark night
breaks into a house
steals your sense of sanity
robs you of all you hold dear
Are you ready for summer?
And days that burn bright and hot?
This year will be like no other;
fears of the virus are naught
Above clouds of grayish-blue
we see a blazing orange sky;
how did we get up here?
we’ve stopped asking why
We desire to see the world
and all its glorious sights,
we travel anywhere we wish
we fly through colorful nights
How did we attain this power?
We really do not know,
we go anywhere at any hour
come with us and we will show.
(Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash)
Deep in the woods at night
I came upon an awful sight
a corpse, ashen and stiff
it was quite a terrible fright
The body was by the cliff
and suddenly it did shift
I screamed, ran like hell
my legs moved very swift
Triumph of underworlds,
drag me down to depths
with low-lifers, soul-slicers
we sing a dreadful tune
of praise for dreary gods
in a minor key, keyed in to
secrets of specter selves
