Madness

I want to live with madness;

passion and wild truth thick in every action,

prying myself into the backs of skulls

filled with the shallow graves of hidden and forgotten rooms...

-to hurl strings of exquisite words

crammed into nonsensical sentences

that stir visceral senses and wake the Divine...

-to crush them together like smoke and breath,

mingling their mating into one, grotesque thing

of immense and terrible beauty...

-to spew them over walls and ceilings and floors,

flinging their joined meats out and over everything

until they cluster in glistening humps

and flow down dull, lethargic flatness in glittering, sensuous rivers...

-to bleed them into puddles of letters and life and wonder

where others are caged,

forced to walk and pacing through them

like sticky bits of broken glass

clinging to their feet

and staining the spaces between their toes...

-to be carried like seeds down the reeking alleys and basement stairs of

lives half lived

from undiscovered souls

which are,

by their very existence,

the rite of passage marked by every God

ever conceived in the heart and mind of man.

H. Newberry  © 2016