Landscape Blue

My hair stands up, something picks at my brain,
The atmosphere touchy as empty lair;
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

I prick my thumb but I can feel no pain
I hear my voice but there’s nobody there
My hair stands up something picks at my brain.

Sensitive sky cries on the world mundane
Sketched a pallid figure, a glint in stare
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

My landscape blue I paint and raze again
And turning white I curse the lady there
My hair stands up something picks at my brain.

I see the landscape blush on bud and grain
One minute inched to gold what once were bare
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

Blood rose, electricity in my vein
Ink spread on paper catapults in air
My hair stands up something picks at my brain
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

Sargasso: Sylvia's Tempest

Tonight I fall headlong
Down into that abyss
The yawning cauldron,
And then calm
Before the water
Hits rockbottom

I crawl with jointed limbs
On the crags and on the cliff
My aerial shudder as I feel
The ancient craving
And inundation of your lip.

I am Raggedy Ann hurling
Into the eye of the cyclone
Perspiration freezing my bones
Traversing the deathly silence
Of the stone.

Tonight I fall headlong
Deep
Deep
Deep into that abyss
The moon mask looking on
Black iris of the sky,
I rise seaweed tangled
Your memory clinging to my hair
Like a barnacle.