Archive for quarry

Licks of Black

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2008 by dc

A nearby quarry holds landslides,
My stomach flames dance,
I change my mind like wet socks
And then smell all my worries.

My muscles tense up like wood-beams,
Gloom kisses my ears,
I walk miles through a storm
And whip dread into fear.

I keep dreaming for something,
A clue to these worry clouds,
Through the licks of black grazing
And the dusk as it drains,

There are outlandish horrors
In this countryside night,
Forces that banish all positive thought
And cave into terror with ease.

I need someone to tell the strange, withered hag
In the distant moonlit field,
Who trains crows as I rest,
That I shall never return to witness her filth,

Some sign to warn the devils in the barn
That I shall never slip back
To the bent nails from long gone
And catch all my thoughts on their desperate rust.

Through the trails of my sleep
Landscapes snap like crooked jigsaws,
Bad decisions wake children
And twist up into jungles of skin,

There are things in my head now
That could almost be love,
Chaos tastes like fresh dew
And mistakes are a walk in the park.

In the middle of sweating
I stir and smell tar,
Someone is calling,
The quarry is silent.