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Leighton Stein Poem
A dot crept
Tarnishing a blue sky.
A red ball, a period, paused in small hands.
Something twinkled in the sky—falling.
An eye closed and a thumb raised:
Smearing it, mocking it.
A thousand gossamer threads trailed it.
And Atropos—sublime, dreadful
Was patient at her platform
blades, hungry, dull from work
Then: white, a silent white, a sheer white
Flash, a Fatman burst
Hell: bodies packaged in flames,
Worn are sagging suits that peel
Cord flesh hangs sight dangles
Muddied sky, red pulse
God?
Knitting the air, screams throb
Weave a blanket obscene
Rain. Warm droplets explode
Stain, black, skin. Rain.
Divine
Intervention-less pit charred city flavorless
Gather in tight little herds
Sore carapace fester, abandoned eyes
A peer here,there, glimpse glint
Something scuttles across window—soul?
Click, click. Hand tremble snap moment:
Lonely wall fragment black relief
Children moan for release.
God?
Copyright © Leighton Stein | Year Posted 2009
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Leighton Stein Poem
Om
Blankets me, folds of warmth, I could
See a seam, sheer white stitch spilt
A beckoning decay stench pinched nostrils
Inch by inch
Contraction contraction crown
I hold onto to absolute
Fingers buried in all—nails snag stars.
Arche
Ousia
Telos—
These my seminal fluids—severed
with the an umbilical.
Cement greeted descent
Legs quake, I stand incomplete
Siphon in expressionless glass
And conformed concrete civilization
As eyes open wide: wistful reality.
I want womb.
There is a spot in my vision,
A glaring absence, smeared onto
Vision canvas—its full motion contorts
Plane, entices synthesia: sound implodes
Brilliant hues of memories passed and
every sensuous experience imposed,
It spoke…
Exist
I do
No
I’ve lived
You have only died
That’s life
No
What is?
Potential
Existence?
Me
Me?
Partial. In me, complete.
I'm you?
Yes
Why live then?
For moments removed are true
Your Function will never be
So great, in uncertainty
Embrace: Life.
Copyright © Leighton Stein | Year Posted 2009
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Leighton Stein Poem
I hold sons in my belly, rotten flesh to sate
Dun bricks scattered crumbs arouse
Scorched meat, the scent, an irresistible bait
Peeling, putrid, mangled: a pleasant browse
Clean, gleaming, skin stretched insidious
Over me. Etched names with tired pens
On stone rowed sympathies, so fastidious
Over them. Roll out my vestiges, and hymens
Forget and repeat. Sure as winter to fall
A fate never escaped, so I’m mated to you
In marrow and mind, kin since the call
Of time, rapt, a bondage bleak in hue
So let the feast begin, cups teem to the brim
A procession indefinite, though often grim
Copyright © Leighton Stein | Year Posted 2009
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Details |
Leighton Stein Poem
A drunk man stumbles out of any bar
Looks at a sky marred with stars
Inside looks he, a void he spys
Tears brim fragmented eyes
He feels it--
Bestowed burden cumbersome
In the hands of man--
The brand,
To think
To be
To become
To not...
Is him
Is we
Copyright © Leighton Stein | Year Posted 2009
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