metamorphosis...

this is what i crawled for -
like a bloated reptile
toward birth?
through days of submerged sun
with no lengthy shadows to lead me;
an inky lizard tracing my lineage
through the maze, running
along trails of ice and scorn…

bumping into waxed walls cemented with hurt and denial
sealed off from memory and reconciliation
without an echo or a crack to breathe,
blinded from refracted doubt;
the chills of pain seemed unbearable…
soft-souled men with cleavers hacked at me
as i passed through sacred and scarred corridors,
my head tucked carefully under my rude appendage…

their sharp tongues bled with words
dropping like spite around me,
running down my back and into my shoes;
but i gather them quickly and stuffed them
under my webbed wing…
the great tar and feather tracks
mark my passing….

and for what? to be borne? to bear my realization?
a transparent film i ripped from reason…
all this to see through my past
and gather my own after birth?
the blood in my shoes is my own now…
i need follow no one’s footsteps;
i leave this age, an anachronism,
born of betters,
evolved to extinction…

the wagging tongues are silent now,
the cave of my passing sealed
like my lips…no one shall follow me…
none haunt me nor question my sanity;
aloft on the wings of my back…
memory melts in flight…

metamorphosis
soliloquies
ja allen

failure in the fifh...

once the storied seal was severed;
the floodgates released;
a penitent soul began combing
wreckage for her lost mind
whose trek toward normalcy halted when
the last sane script aborted.
beyond the windswept shore,
beneath the carrion skull,
she wept as you handed her the final ultimatum
with her head locked in place,
eyes downcast, diverted
afraid to meet yours…

the ebony eagle eyed her white, white skin
transparent within sheltered coves
covered with windblown sand and ash.
her naked frame shivered in dread as
she awaited annihilation – banishment from
the kangaroo kingdom…
age marbled her mind and grayed
her sallow features…her concave chest heaved
with each sharp intake of toxic air…
the poisoned gasp of unrelieved anxiety;
she awaited your final words…
finally recognizing them as you spit them at her,
“you have proven to be unworthy…”

the words pierced like knives and severed her soul…
pointing your rigid finger, you twisted the point
in deep, relishing the intense pain revealed
in her quivering mouth and wet eyes
“you disgust me with your needs,
your desires, your constant whining
about love and tomorrow when you
know nothing about either…
your body is imperfect, your mind is
specious, you mean nothing to me…”
with that you grabbed her hair and dragged
her to the exit and shoved her outside;
she tripped and fell on jagged rocks;
her hands and her knees began to bleed
as she got to her feet and looked back
she expected to see you staring at her with your dead eyes…

but you were not there…you’d turned into stone,
black and lustrous set against the raging sea;
the ocean spray foamed around you as swirling
eddies pulled you loose, your large bulk finally
sinking under the weight of your convictions…

failure in the fifth
prism gates
ja allen

love seasons...

you allow me inside to share your art
sealed within subtle shades of you…
stainless mesh alongside serrated and lethal knives;
bountiful counters and wooden accoutrements…
there is steam, heat and hearty conversation
as you wield words as carefully as
you carve and chop against the grain…
i listen to each word, examining it
for hidden meaning,
innuendo or surprise…
but there is little subterfuge—
just careful honesty and
cautious optimism…

as i observe your painstaking preparations,
your slow and hesitant advances toward me,
always sensitive, yet, unendingly sensual,
i find my capacity to trust enlarge,
sensing a depth never felt before
inside your invitation to partake…
often i feel consumed by my feelings for you…
stilled and silenced by my need to be with you—
at times filled with desperate longing and dreams of endless
kisses and nights nestled in your arms…
within the confines of our narrow world,
no one could love you more…
i realize this longing is mine alone …
that i cannot fathom your secret soul or your
grasp of this fragile reality…

if i discover that i shall never belong in your world
or any sphere that matters to the heart…
then this last door will be closed forever…
the interim is marked with pain and uncertainty
as i await the inevitable;
anticipating the slow silence piercing the intimacy of our
diluted conversation
as you defy the rhythm of our dance and override
my love with caution…
will your inexplicable movement usher me
toward the exit?
out into the cold where the biting wind
chills the blood on my lips…
or will you take me inside and let me
sit at your table forever?

love seasons
prism gates
by ja allen