The New Gods

The other day, 
I caught myself thinking, 
Wondering whether the old Gods, 
Still walk this earth. 

Do they anymore dwell,
In the din,
Of our shuddering cities? 
Or is the fuel for the fires,
The flames in our engines, 
All that remains,
Of their lifeblood we drained?

In the dust, ash and grime,
It is hard to find, 
Marks of the divine, 
When these desolate lands, 
Like the bent broken backs,
Shells of their bodies, 
That still stand. 

Maybe the old Gods are lost to us, 
We've been left abandoned, 
To perish by the torments, 
Of our own devices.

Yet we need to hold on, 
To hope,
That hiding in the breeze, 
And the shades of trees, 
In the gurgle of a cool stream, 
Are the new Gods, 
Gods who will rise to reclaim this earth, 
Gods who will heal the creation we've hurt, 
They who will lead us to rebirth. 

Aphrodisiac

It’s difficult writing about you.

You’re uncharted territory,

and I don’t want this voyage to end.

I’m not sure where my homeland is.

Where do I go back to?

Will I ever stop traveling you?

It’s difficult writing about you.

You’re coming into my life,

and I’ve only ever written about people who’ve left.

Black water, waves that wash over me.

My stream of consciousness a solvent for pain,

anger.

Your waters are meeting mine,

and this feeling is like some long-lost childhood memory.

Misty, blurred, shifty.

Fearful that it might fall and break,

or lest I forget,

I treat it like a treacherous bastard.

The rivers that grow have flown past many,

so many ports. Fed by a million drops of the days

we’ve lived,

Different colors,

a different texture,

will the waters mix?

I keep stumbling into plans

made years ago,

now decadent, overgrown,

overrun

with roots and vines.

Much like the rainforest in my mind.

Cut through the thick creepers.

Cut through the grass, and the twisted stems.

Let some light into the cave where I hide.

Cowering like a frightened animal.

Hackles raised. Shivering.

Snapping at every shadow.

Desperate for morphine,

something for the pain.

the gashed wounds,

rudely stitched together.

Still bloody from gouging

scar tissues.

Will the grief in my waters

be the relief of your agony?

Will our rivers flow together

to heal what ails?

Will I let drops of the Sun

drip into my murky cave?

Shall I hold you,

caress you,

Heal you for rebirth?

Groping about in the dark, dark days,

Opiates, foraging

for numbness.

But,

You’re my Aphrodisiac.