അക്കിഎ തോമസ്‌

for Thomas

I.

Blackness loomed, darkness on your lips
Hustled naked, beneath these bloody ships
Slaving hostile, hope lost in tears
Walking the plank, as spit on the years
Damage is done, the priest kisses dirt

You fold it,
in tiny pieces.
You throw it.
It lights,
next
to
the dying ones.
Brandy and options were the divine
Fool in this laughter, over them climb
Numb grins soiled, daemons pressing in
Broken veins twisted, dust settles thin
Naughty hand sinew, sewn deep in eye
Four-poster...
post mortem...
post revolution...
lick it,
and die.
My friend and I, we'd become nowhere near
Death roses cross, bone surrenders tear
Nipples frozen, blue sky reaches down
Barren heart stark, snow as a crown
King of our century, slashed open shirt
you melt
you soften
dust
kiss
me.
Revolt mortal wish, old bastard whores
kneaded bread bodies, feed open sores
Brandishing youth, senility power hell
Disgraces forgotten, ancient world fell
The thing you and I, cast no one saw
Upon the living
may it
be said
no
more


Prayer
II.

In every failure
In every decay
may live the beast
Who chooseth to roam the mind

In every hollow
In every tree
as it turn into me

I know it not but become
as leaf to fall
as mulch to dirt
as earth that will agian
grow
life

As horse is to cart
Man is to spirit.