Miscommunication
serendipity, anticipation,
blurred reality -
lost in the dialect
of a dream,
in pursuit
of Love
find callous irony;
subversion of desire
what's it all about?
to know and be known.

Mere seconds
of scrutiny
inferior,
I am shown.
Her appraisal
eviscerating
my warm flesh,
her tilted criteria
supplanting the interior,
voluble with
saccharine neologisms
and preferences
for the exterior.
(not mine)
Ironic was my
attraction to
her brain.

Lines, features
and symmetry,
image - the commodity,
aesthetics, the
currency
in this transaction,
cursory liaison,
incendiary,
collapse of the
insurgent ego -
there was no
us in the
the affair of
nothingness.

Bruised in
abasement,
I'm not the one -  
I thought I was.
Hyperbole -
the center
of delusion,
a curious
diversion -
avoid my life.

The allure of
the illusion,
transference,
the ordinary to
the romantic,
the perfect other.
Searching, the
absorbing project -
aquiring wholeness,
did she reject me?
I rejected me.

The escape into
fraudulent
sadness,
to mourn,
is to displace,
the disowned heart
by self is tragic.  
Should
I not mourn for
the one I'm
deferring?

Inside of me
It's safe,
to lament
the loss of
identity -
tension is agony
without resolve
sequestered,
in my pain,
self-imposed
familiar terrain,
upon retrieval,
awaking in
renewal,
mystery and destiny
providentially,
I am free.

Violent clangs echo
From the TV,
And the Bride is a
Vengeful gazelle,
Galloping forth and
eviscerating the
ones who stand in
her path to---

        “**** Bill again?
                 Is that all you do when I’m gone? Snort
         Coke, get high, lounge back
         And watch this ******* ****?”

The cigarette burns hot in her fingers,
Smoke sighing from her lungs and
She smiles silently. Plum lips pucker
And one hand beckons him forth,
the other raising a silent finger.

Skin tight yellow and black
Hugs her curves and she
triumphs, golden goddess
Reclaiming herself in a
Blazen trail of ******
Revenge.

      “Come on, I’ve been gone and now
        I’m here. I’ve missed ******* you
       And hearing your pretty little moans.”

Ashes on her pant leg, feet flex and
She rises up, eyes fixed on the screen.
Cat eyes smirk and she takes his hand,
Dark bob razor sharp as she dreams
About the day she’ll wield the katana.

Countdown to Armageddon precariously hinges
   potential apocalypse outcome, mere smattering days away
if the brazen, fierce-some dragon doth don
   trumps presidential throne -
   ships with whistling  Dixie missiles at bay
will be synchronized with aerial bombardiers
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
   to parlay a view to unleash nuclear weapons on cue
destroying a vast swath of flora and fauna,
   and most life forms (inn oh cent), but pay hefty due
to assuage the aggressively cruel, enjoyably
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
   growling at his goalie indubitably
   kick *** mindset worse than dengue fever will ensue
a combustible domino effect fueling global horror -
   analogous to kindling tinder logs smoke
   the color - jetblue streaming up fireplace flue
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
witnessing sovereign magnum opus trans
   forming much of animal and plant life into flakes of goo
far scarier than any macabre production
   dreamt up by human frightful scenario and no hero
she ma to rescue self or other from deadly debacle,
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
   nor any safe haven such as a cool igloo
forsooth complete annihilation will far surpass
   any prior world war, no one will be spared,
   neither gentile nor Jew
which total mortal kombat, and attendant laying waste
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
   organisms livingsocial instantaneously cremated,
   where ashes spread dispersed faster than Kudzu
rendering world wide web fetid, offal, and putrid
   far more noxious than the common loo
yet even this general description falls short to where mew
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
tinny sans hardy species (according to Google search);
   such as tardigrade, mummichog, and cockroach
decimating, heaving, leveling, poisoning
   every cubic inch of Earth evincing voluminous vaporization
   extant eradication emphatically nixed, punctuated, and radiated
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
   pulverization eviscerating the bowels of mankind,
   where nary a survivor could weather and withstand
   hollowed out no mans land bereft of sustenance or water
   where seeds of white lily when coalescence
   of oblate spheroid birthed, nursed, and weaned new
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
life especially proto **** sapiens
   and subsequent kin grunting with ah and oew
fast tracked primates, yet inherent within genetic coda
   (perhaps poison ingredient bubbled
  within primordial soup) - steeped quantum mechanical pew
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
tar nation housing crucible-
   analogous to planetary size mortar and pestle) queue
sans predestination, where rue
brick, dogma, and fealty honoring justice slew
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
by paws of one cancerous, fractious and idolatrous Lothario,
   who opened Pandora Box (rigged shut tight) thorough
lee rendered civilization a footnote
   of cosmological history and universal view
-    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -   -    -
BUT.... eligible voters can choose alternate
   (Democratic) candidate -
   the majority will exhale a collective gustatory whew
and allow, enable and provide continuance of the human zoo!

I wept.
For my love had ceased to exist at that moment.
Before me stood an imposter; a false idol -
With a form identical to the elegance and splendor of Hers,
But whose eyes stared through me with no warmth
Eyes that gave me no hope for a future worth forging,
Eyes that dart through my heart- tearing and shattering
All that is and was.
I no longer weep.
Memories leading up to the moment,
Find themselves everyday in thoughts.
Eviscerating heart and mind again and again
And again and again.
I can not weep.

Unimposing to the objects around.
Visualizing each item with vivid detail.
Haunting the forgotten sleeping synapse.
Hidden deep within the fiber.
Feeling lungs cascading violently.
Sundering pops of adrenaline punctuate.

Shadows cast doubt over courage.
Crossed eyes seeing double vision.
Tranquility forbid the beating heart.
Shaken steadily upon each migraine.
Broken toe acting subtle.

Windows eviscerating the light.
Dimming color and pigments alike.
Dancing brave the wildly fire.
Black and blue, mildly haze.
Images of demon and ghoul take the hour.

Sickened sunken skeletal room.
White tiles caress coldly as ice.
Air circulates with grim agenda.
Hands riddled with obnoxious arthritis.
Brooming the dust, sweeping the fear.

The beautiful black steed champions it away.
Red are the hoofs painting the scene.
Vaporizing the light by any means.
Delegating everything entirely serene.
Shootingstar, throttling deemed.

Brilliant cloud looming so high.
Setting the Sun into the sky.
Benevolent brother opposing shy.
Sorcering wisdom allowing to fly.
Devilish the Moon, waking my eye.

Corroding at the essence of what had been,
leaves wilted scorched by the white.
It was but a far away moment now colliding
upon our onyx reality.

No thought of that which echoed in the distance
a difference to our perspective. but now absorbing
all that was delicate obsidian, eviscerating all
substance now bleached from known existence.

All we were was eroding away, flowers blossomed
but wilted upon the sight above, diluted our shadows
were not as they were. All that was will soon be but a
blank slate no longer the beauty that was obscurity.

She laughed with disapproval
Glittered motion sickness I grabbed a her head
tossed her hard enough so I can be dead
The **** came on-a charging angry I took his limbs
he discarded all my paperwork tons of scribbling
years of failing

Weakened from dreaming
Wandering in the dark while the mice weren’t making any peeping
He said I can’t breathe but my lungs were blacker than his death
I’ll let them shoot me in the back and maybe I wouldn’t mind it
I figured it would be allright  I don’t have tryophobia

****** so many ***** but I didn’t get the job
The moon is bright in the sky yet you’re not smart
I keep writing on trees but please believe me I already have arthritis before thirty
Standing and eviscerating
I keep writing on everything they try to stop me but I hold back

They were chilling and waiting
on his death bed
Said the last rites but he already knew they loved him
I don’t know my write from the wrong doing
He’s finally accepted how life jerks you off the wrong way
I think I got graphomania

Grow, grow, growing grow
Taller, wider, deeper, steeper

Topsoil cracking
Foundations creaking
Interstitial water leaking
Gases pluming
Sun too hot

Birds forgetting how to fly
Flies all set to multiply
Central heating turned up high

Fish recumbent on the sands
Hail brave campaigning elephants
Who rampage through
the concrete jungle
eviscerating 4WDs
with tusks awry
trunks outstretched
eyes akimbo

Vanguard of a worldwide army
of feather scale and bone
all stitched up
By might is right
into a threadbare tapestry of deprivation

Today we spread, we glow, we grow

In rampaging delight we gag
on feather, bone and scale
We suffocate ourselves

Tomorrow
The earth will fry
And so might I

Is this the way to end our poem

© Diana Korchien 2012

Air left to
rust when we speak

it now is the time
to postpone

gladly over a shining,
retaliatory absence

in search of a space
to shape a volatile figure

that was
a bridge

how, humming our steps
a valedictory

making staccato.
hurry before it catches

us mid-flow, profuse
with sustained harbors

but they cannot
see us here when they slit

us from our canvas, how?
all that radiates

expels us out of this
when no more; absorbed their

breaths boldly stuck inside
a body: a cage: a meeting: an encounter

a path dollies in perfect capture
frame by frame almost an ellipsis

the world tonight blackened
a gutter squalled by an unseen figure

darting across,  eviscerating
the bargain: that in-between produced vastness.

I met her one night in a dream: a divine being of singular beauty with long, dark hair and a heavenly radiance, with eyes of the bluest aether. She was the paradigm of unparalleled perfection, uncontested and enchanting.

Upon waking I expected to find she was a mere creation of my imagination. However, I was surprised to see in my hand the note she had written me. So small a keepsake, yet enormously treasured.

I walked outside and began a search to find the angelic being of my dreams. Where is one to look for angels but in the sky? I knew then that to the highest peak of the tallest mountain I must go if there was any hope of finding her.

Leaving behind my home and eveything I own, I journeyed to the mountain. A peak so high it pierced the belly of the heavens, but I climbed it with unwavering zeal. I felt such a strong desire to see her pulling me inexorably toward the top despite any tiredness...or any logical expectation that it wasn't all for nothing.

As I approached the summit I saw city walls made of some sort of ivory-coloured marbled stone, bejeweled with great jade and sapphire. As I approached the gates they opened for me, and I felt a rush of cold air carrying a very pleasant and familiar scent. It was her! Her sweet, ambrosial aroma took rapturous hold of my bones and pulled me through the gates.

Despite the majesty of this city of wonderous stonework, I quickly realized it was devoid of life. Strange, but a mystery of insignificant proportions compared to my current goal. If she was there, I would find her. I made my way through the barren streets guided by some immaterial leash of sentiment, obsession, and something else. I dared not question anything, and only surrendered to the force. It was as if she was calling me to her by way of all my senses and all I had to do was listen.

The empty streets themselves whispered stories of their own. What was once a vibrant, vivacious realm is now resting on a foundation of the dead. No evidence of war or struggle marred the place. Headstones lined each street, and the roads themselves were paved with stone coffins. On every structure where headstones couldn't be set, plaques were placed instead in honour of each fallen citizen. However, no single one had a date written on it...only names. I wondered if the cause of such thorough devastation to this place was a disease of some sort. After all, the city was completely isolated.

While some minor portion of my mind was analyzing this enigmatic environment, my driving focus remained steadfast. I knew little about her, but I knew that no one in a dream nor in the waking world had I ever wanted more. I could see that she wanted me too, as it had become clear that she was drawing me in. So, I continued to submit.

I was brought to the bell tower of a grand cathedral. There was a large outlook off the side of the tower. It offered an unobstructed view of the starry sky and swaying aurora. As I stared at the entrancing scene, my meditation was interrupted by a touch on my shoulder. I had found her!

With an embrace and a kiss we began a partnership the likes of which no world had ever known. Many conversations we shared, and much more. I learned of this forsaken city that she calls home, its secrets, and its history. I learned of her strengths and weaknesses, and learned that even an angel of such splendour can have insecurities. She told me of the people that once lived here and how they took to worshipping her. Dodengel, they called her. But her true name is for me alone.

She pointed to the stars and the black abyss between. The pale blue aurora performing before the black backdrop was something I had always wanted to see, and I had a front row seat. Never had I been so close to the outer reaches. As fascinating as the cosmic show was, nothing had ever been more captivating than the radiant creature beside me. She moved her body in the most seductive manner demanding my full attention. In the starlit dark of night she now had what appeared to be wings of golden light, and her eyes...those eyes! So bright and blue, glowing hypnotically and rendering me helplessly under her control. Never had I experienced such a total loss of faculties.

Taking me by the hand she swept us into the black expanse where no mortal being can survive. Beyond the realm of men, outside the shadows from which I was conjured. Into Oblivion she took me, her secret place. I remained willingly under her spell. Those eyes are shackles, binding the will of one who dares to get close. That one was me. A fantasy that was conceived in dreams was born into reality. I had found her. She was here in front of me as real as I myself am real. Her obsessive love for me as real as mine for her. Her beauty as real as the pain in my stomach...as real as the metallic taste of thick blood filling my mouth. I had given myself to her, and as long as she kept me bound I was powerless to stop her. She was carving into me, eviscerating me and tearing me apart all while sustaining a smile. A pain so harrowing made worse by feeling my own warm intestines unraveling down my legs. With a hand like a razor-sharpened blade she opened me up from pelvis to neck, leaving all the organs exposed and bones separated. I couldn't stop her from mutilating me. Even as I stayed locked into her gaze she wouldn't grant me as much mercy as fainting from the pain. It was agony. But no matter the anguish, I was unable to break the spell she had over me.

When she finished and my body was in tatters she took me back to the world we'd left. With what intact parts of me I had left I could feel myself writhing. So much pain yet so much ecstasy! Back to my home she flew me and laid my broken body on my bed. With one last kiss she said goodbye, and at that I finally lost consciousness.

As I write in recovery from surgeons' work putting me back together I can't get her off my mind. The scars I'll bear will forever remind me of of something extraordinary. And I will be with her again. No forces in this world nor any world beyond can quell this addiction.

You see, she was an angel, true. But "Dodengel" is a word in a long lost language meaning roughly "Angel of Death". How can I say that this was in any way a declaration of love, you ask? The Angel of Death is a harvester of lives. It is her nature to **** any marked for death. No entities are more marked by the gods than the Draa'ma, or Daemons, of which I, in part, am one. Her nature is to ****, yet she only maimed. No effort was made to properly **** me, as destruction of the body doesn't mean true death for one of my kind. She showed me her true self. She showed an unlovable monster unequivocal love: for what is more loving that denying one's intrinsic nature in favour of another?

Tussled speculations of many. I wonder - what could they be? 
Scarring looks of plenty, the conclusion - it's obviously me. 
Reasoning with probable cause and lack of present graces, the cause of unsettling silence and spiteful, dismal faces. 
Massive gaps of distance, set in place by stone. A once communion eviscerating as division's presence is shown. 
Words intentionally unspoken, the silence too maddening to bear- ******* slowly broken, leaving not even remnants to share. 
Visible aches and empty hurt, proving difficult to hide. 
Longing questions within my eyes, as I witness how "we died." 
Now, too far gone for wishful thinking or pleading on bended knee. It was never really worth fighting for, as I now so plainly see.

Drinks turn to drinks, turn to drinks, turn to drinks,
Turn to acidic love,
Eviscerating my sight with technicolour,
An extraordinary hallucinatory rush,
Holding hands or laying in laps,
Falling into ribs or the booming bass of summer hits,
Rising and soaring then crashing into loops,
Of thought,
Falling into ribs or the booming bass of summer hits,
Falling into loops of thought,
Falling in love,
Texting my friends, feeling unsure if I’m thinking or talking,
Words on the screen convey the words in my head,
That’s mad,
The blinding light of a children show whirls,
I think I know my type,
I hope she kisses me,
I need to get out of this situation,
What about drawing?
Or music?
Or sit in silence for 45 minutes flat,
Or watch X2: X-Men United,
Stuck in loops,
Time has passed,
One sudden snap,
And it’s ******* awful,
Coming down,
Hold on and go to work,
Really good, I’ll try it next week,
And although I should know better; it all felt so magical and real,
I fell in love a little bit,
And lost myself a little more

The sky and the sun have been acquainted for long,
Yet they bicker, fight and sometimes don't get along
But when nights inevitable vanish and stars gone
They stood by each others side as the sun in the sky.
Now one day the sky had the courage to speak his mind
The correct syntax and metaphors of what he could find
He said 'Sometimes, I love that you give me my colour,
That you show me all the hidden beauty to discover,
And you have always been like my lover'.

The sun beamed a radiant ray into the vast sky,
Eviscerating the clouds that kept the beautiful sky hidden,
Though the love between the sun and the sky is forbidden
So although their hearts and storms beat to the same rhythm
They were never meant to stay together with one another
So the sun, the sky, the warmth carried empty title of lovers.

I sat at the Lighthouse and looked at the sky
feeling the breeze caressing my spine
little did I know this would be the last time
that I would sit on these rocks in the early july

I felt like an oyster on the half shell
hearing the wind in the trees casting their spell
The bouy rocking and ringing its bell
the sunrise is effortless painted pastel

life was so easy then

2005
I wish I had loved you then
when life was simple
and love was easy
when you and I were young enough to stay
over at each other's houses and
talk all night
on the mattress we dragged out in front of the tv

                 2010
I wish I had loved you then
When love was awkward, small
and we were innocent
When we could look into each others eyes
and know that we were too scared
to hold hands even in public
and was lost when you kissed me

                  2016
Im glad we love each other now
when we're both sixteen and I learn to drive
and you text me when I got home
when you hold my hand without shame
to and tell our parents for our first time
when you kiss my nose
and clumsily love me

and even then that fades
from contact daily to a nod in the halls
why do I love rejection
why do I feel like my entire body is a leg that fell asleep
why are we pending
why is it that I cant see a volvo without thinking about the moss on your windshield
why am I seated on the gross tiled floor in a dingy room trying to ignore the thought of you
why cant I look at my favorite sweater anymore
why cant I drink milk or drive that strip of highway
why cant I remember how love felt with someone else
why do I forget that I mean so little to you
why did I let you replace my big A with your little e
why cant I listen to Beethoven without feeling scared and alone
why do I let your rejection become me
why am I so scared that losing you means forgetting me
why has it been 1 month and nine days since we last spoke
why do I count that
why do I feel like disassociation is my default when you aren't there to tell me it isn't
why am I not able to look in that envelope without losing breath the envelope that used to take my breath away for another reason
But most importantly why do I love yellow when its eviscerating to look at

A predator takes pride
In eviscerating its prey
Draining away its life
As it slowly plays

why do I love rejection
why am I projecting meaning onto a little grey arrow
why do I feel like my entire body is a leg that fell asleep
why am I pending
why are we pending
why do I feel so out of place in a room of friends
why am I so sad to people I love happy
why am I this selfish
why is it that I cant see a car without thinking about the moss on your windshield
why am I seated on the gross tiled floor in a dingy room trying to ignore the thought of you
why cant I look at my favorite sweater anymore
why cant I drink milk or drive that strip of highway
why cant I remember how love felt with someone else
why do I forget that I mean so little to you
why do I let that small reminder affect me
why did I let you replace my big A with your little e
why cant I listen to Beethoven without feeling scared
why do I let your rejection become me
why did scary tyler, or uninhibited jules, or violent todd, or lovely katherine let their names become rejection too
why am I so scared that losing you means forgetting me
why has it been 1 month and nine days since we last spoke
why do I count that
why do I feel like disassociation is my default when you aren't there to tell me it isn't
why am I not able to look in that envelope without losing breath
But most importantly why do I love yellow when its eviscerating to look at

"Your eviscerating, loving stare"...
and I can feel something tear -
it's my certainty,
it's my reality,
(the very things I see
they clash with thee!)

You are good, but you are a threat!
You cut me - and you want to help
My eyeballs possessed by your mental state!
It's a outside voice inside my head
For years, for years - trying to break free
I had your ugly eyes
fixed over mine!
I always knew they weren't right but
for a second they got attached -

The eyes of the world - so unknown
your eyes tend to interpret what they don't know
Their eyes - always hurt a lot
because they're yours, and they also rot!
Rot my heart and my thoughts

But you are good, you are there too
how can love make you feel so low?
I guess it's something no one wants to know
I just can't let you swap my soul at all
for yours, or let you set my rights and wrongs.
Peace is this.

Hope flies out the window fast
Bottom empty no repast,
Moment born of cancers’ child
Status hangs unreconciled
Woe be they who lay it thin
Who stalk these dark nights, plundering.
Woe be they who keep their guard
Abreast, and lo behold, ******
That which causes heart to sing
Despite the hurt imbued within.

Solitary, lonely way
Through this enigmatic day.

When, in truth,  potentials lie
Through yonder, bright magenta sky,
Through reams of iridescent verse
Orated daily, unrehearsed,
Bowls of olives, black, in oil
Turkish loaf, foccascia foil
laughing girls in skimpy skirts
Raucous till he belly hurts….

But futile in this state of woe
As bitter bile now sours the show.

Towering in halls of cloud
Mouthing ,hard, jawbone aloud
Struggling to hold intact
Counterpoints to interact,
Damning inconsistencies,
Weak deniability’s
Betrayal slides In cuts of time
Agonising back teeth grind
Quivering in searing pain
Every good, undone again.

Stalking hard to places thin
Solitude… eviscerating,

Emptiness imbues the light
Shatters soul in shoals of fright,
Delve hopelessly to hopeless ways
Scream as light refracts in waves,
Wallowing to places thin
Wavering to lost within.
Weakness in the cold half light
Shattered prospects drenched in fright,

Rabid eyes withdrawn in face
Incarcerate hot hatred’s trace.

Better now in light of day
Sunshine beaming in to play,
***** count resumes its gain
Flocculant reduces pain
Shame slides in the door ajar
Embarrasment impinged afar.

Amazing how a cup of tea
Resurects the life in me.


M.
14 April 2019