Tag Archives: valley of death

these things that come to me in dreams, by pd lyons


we came upon them by stealth
a group of children play with sticks and  rags like flags
a half dozen ponies hobbled in high grass
a thin trail of smoke rises through cold air like a prayer
and we antitheses of blessings readied our weapons

I saw her
silent to death
her child
no more than four
open
ribbons before
her

burning
anger
bullet
met
that moment stopped in violence
never ends

DSC_3191from “the bluebook poems” ruff

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These Words Are Empty Like The Air You Can’t Live Without


These Words Are Empty Like The Air You Can’t Live Without

Sometimes no one comes back
in addition to that
you live with  all those idiotic things you took for granted.

But we wanted to know.
Our fascination drew us into every variation on a theme.
What would hell be like?
What would we be like in hell?
How would we act?
How would death bring me closer to god?

In a profound activity
I sign myself away.
Surrender to mechanics
Earn relief from anxiety
Freedom from responsibility.
I can walk through carveries of flesh
Fearing no evil mother fucker
Cause that’s who we are.
We need no sanctuary from ourselves.

When the automatic stuff is done
Some of us return to our own.
Loved ones  nothing but food.
God  nothing but permission.
All honour reduced to a blinding reason
All other truths ill mannered and regardless.
Who weeps for us?
Only well and truly duped.
The hearts of our own mothers
We fuck till they’re still

 

pdlyons photography

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