Tom Reed's Blog

play this my living nightmare

breathe in my cotton candy delusions

spun with sweet eyes that tumble

that wish to be maelstrom

learn these my majors

when i am naught but minors

hold my vibrating hands tightly

kiss me as though you were lost to me

( as though you were lost to yourself )

some musical instrument i am

with these blues & pinks & greens

( my cotton candy mind, right? )

but colors do not mean much

you do

you do

& so the lesson ends here

do you remember the notes & their order …

how to unlock when your lips open …

how to untangle where your fingers go …

i wake up again in ashes & broken violin strings

you are still long gone

no student

no storm

where are the keys

i lose myself in

drowned in electricity

minor chords, major pain

tangled cords, orb spun again

in my sleep

flickers of flame linger silent. hush.

in the drifting smoke of memory

wishes whirl through, uninvited.

erratum! { hic versus poematis Latinismus esse debet, sed nihil congruit. nihil congruit. bene se habet. }

so i am burned again, though quiet. & still …

the pipe organ of my heart!

the ghost of lost kisses!

so i am consumed in my very own sorcery, quiet & still.

somewhere far away sage still smudges.

dreimal schwarzer Kater, i suppose?

what of the dust of this, glittering in this ugly morning haze? i wave my blurred hands before my face & maybe somewhere there’s caffeine, a bitter but beautiful scent / hope. i dissolve into old books, thin paper, & drown in past seas.

dust, coffee, paper, water.

what sort of misguided incantation is this?

mix these things & it is a mess.

motes.

maintaining.

memories.

melancholia, my ocean.

there was no sunset yesterday.

there was smoke, & amber skies,

& a general sense of unease.

it felt like there will never be a sunset again.

all of this is how i feel without you.

oh gods my fingers

play the strings of my brain again

play a viscous imagination

like an electric cello

oh gods my fingers

bleed

the circles of my heart turn

like music box drums

discordant, oh gods

my fingers twitch, they dance

i create something from nothing

again, again

again

[ no moisture, no heat ]

this black night

a loose canvas

the clouds are brushed on too thinly

the stars are drops of blood

this black night

you were a soft hand on my cheek

my mind, no gesso, but sharp tooth

& inside my head sleeps this black night

i swipe the stars with turpentine

so now you are galaxies

greater than this black night

with too many things to worry over

& forgot how to just say hello

you have escaped our frame

you have left me with broken glass

on this black night

this black night

two squirrels rapidly bark at each other.

klik-kuk,

kukukuki- kikuk.

they are to my left, close enough

that they could touch my glowing hand.

green & azure.

a spell, a mist-swirl. i am not sure

why. it feels like

my hand is underwater.

one of the squirrels, the one in the hat, points at me

& goes quiet, shushing the other

with a tiny finger.

they suddenly run off into the trees,

which were not there before.

the trees

that were not there before.

i think this is the name of where i am from.

my head is clear, the gentle breeze whispers this to me. there is an occasional klik-

kluk-

kikkik

from a distant branch that i cannot see. or perhaps it is my phone, which i ignore. there is no magic there.

my head is clear.

the trees begin their dance.

the glow fades.

the wind

turns to a rain

that sings my dirge

such that i might sleep.

the sky i pull

with the tired arms of my lungs

it is oppresive

an osprey watches us

(( cautiously ))

she finds the beauty

i find the longing

& between the two of us

we’ll perhaps find some sort of balance

i always thought this kind of stuff was made up. but … apparently …

oh dear.