Mozart’s Beak
January 16, 2019
-ONE MUST GO BEYOND TO BECOME-
Sometimes I stand in one place,
but I am not there
In this place,
you do not know me.
Here, my blood boils between sighing senses and a sewn In gut
Like cats teeth
I gnaw and claw at my weakest strands
Pulling apart the places where I failed to take a stand.
I stand heart swelling between my pores
pushing
this scared crows beak through atmospheric places fighting for MORE!
Ruin and rapture, left to swim amongst the stars I soar.
As my lips peel themselves around
Paradoxical pastries pleasurable and poisonous
It is my insides that hemorrhage rabid & boisterous.
Adom split, I am divided by three
Frozen shelled it’s my soul that screams FREE!
Pouting, swollen in arrogance
It bleeds through my eyes
Where I remain is far from where my soul flies.
And as I sink beneath the graveled earth, devoured
by swallowing mud and loving larva
it’s Mozart’s beak that reminds me of Nirvana
Flapping feathers furrowed then freed above
fluffy mounds of blushed cotton,
Breeze brushing backwards beyond dreams begotten.
Tonight I dream of leaving it all, of basking in the forgotten.
And in that warm, dusk kissed light,
Horizon stretched
My insanity is etched
A thicket of desires beating through pounds of flesh.
Thirsting for resurrection, I stop only to drink from my own reflection.
Still stood, cold framed
Purged
And sweaty
I soar with Mozart, extending myself, creating compositions, rubbed and ready
Violent they’ve become sharpened steal pointed and pinning
Forcing me to go to the beginning.
And in the beginning, “the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”
My veins weep as my breath, it leaps beyond this eternal sleep.
Sometimes I stand in one place,
but I am not there
In this place,
you do not know me.
But should you look upon my pushed past in present face
There you’ll find, entombed inside gorged lids, my soul, the God of impenetrable space.
By: Magnolia Lafleur
Shut Eyes Kept Breath
July 5, 2013
That’s where she existed best.
In the dark, in the light, high upon the rafters,
Perched above the clamor of civilization.
Where fog embraces light in the form of bulbous clouds.
Where the pangs of sorrow are dulled by the atmospheric civility that only floating can offer.
Where tears find home in rain,
Calmness in the breath of nothing,
and stillness in the charm of fluttered roses.
And just the mere possibility of all this, that desire to break free from skin,
It cruised beneath her heart and pushed against limp veins.
Like leather tightly wound against screaming bones,
She felt the itch of wanting to escape;
To melt past rattling walls and bursting bubbles.
But only with shut eyes and kept breath could she find the courage to leap.
And spinning in the solitary moment of her first step was truth flashing upon somber lids.
It was in the rain,
It was in the wind,
It was in the beat of the sun
and in every crater of the moon.
She was interwoven in the bliss of this deserted place.
Every night bathing in the light of the stars
And every morning dancing with a flock of wings.
In her despair she had surrendered to the dream and found triumph in the crux of her soul.
Pirouetted in the divinity of absolute mirth, alas she was home.
Midnight Interlude
February 10, 2013
By: Magnolia
To this experience, she was a guest.
Her usual floppy stance became erect and watchful.
Her eyes scintillated and sunken in fright
As a phantom, superior and with bizarre curiosity
Arose, deliberate, detached and delighted while disentangling itself
Inside the lucidity of a half- remembered dream where
All walls collapsed
Atoms took to beat and
Form neglected the boundaries of human conceptualization.
And while reality took to bed possibility
Buildings skipped from side to side, back and forth in comical repetition.
Red became green, blue, pink and plush purple.
Numbers echoed their “I am’s” until they, like a string of pearls, conjoined into a choir of nothing but decoration in an empty space.
Fatality became a companion only to walking apathy
Bombastic unpredictability became soothing potential
Quick became irrelevant
And like the sloth, all had abandoned the clock
And just like that, slow became comfortable.
This outer body experience left her observing the shell she originally inhabited
As all it’s questions, and pondering and confused, rampant vocalization,
Silenced her timid lips, and all that remained, was one thought
“Am I dead, or am I free?” a wonder that lasted but a second,
For suddenly the turbulence of beauty sliced into her experience
And the happiness of a moment coded in the feeling of a kiss;
Encircled, nuzzled and clutched every molecule
Below and between the gaps of every impossibility.
And a voice breathed forth the
Absence of fear and the presence of peace into an anxiety filled form
Everything was nothing, and nothing was everything.
And all that mattered, embraced the obsolete.
Closed eyes, and in the silence of her peace, her skin whispered, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
And in the dark, the face of an old man, expressionless, and bound to no sense of gravity
With one look, injected truth into into her barely beating veins,
“My love, thou inhibits all and everything. Boundless, you are the daughter and son of this creator. And your soft gel like tissues, afloat inside a castle of bones? A mere means of transport in a sea of possibility.”
And while her veins pouted in swollen satisfaction, with her last ounce of strength before her soul cavorted with a sleeping body, she said,
“I understand now, but if I forget later?”
And with no words, he thumped the answer into her heart,
“Then close your eyes and open your child.”
With those last words, she awoke
Drenched in the knowing that there was nothing more to be done,
She surrendered to trying and excavated complexity from the jaws of her trained mind.
And her eyes, drooped in the reckless abandonment of being in love with the infinite,
Tickled inside her enlivened flesh.
For there was no becoming as she already was.