Blood and Anxiety- Touch Me Not

Touch me not lest we forget.

This painting that we walk upon.

Brushstrokes of blood and bone.

Betrayal of a secret kind erasing what was.

Touch me not lest I forget the cold iron of your eyes.

Or the harshness of each hand bathed in frosted cobalt.

I gave up who I was while throwing myself into your arms.

And burned white-hot in your scorn.

Let me not forget.

-M.E. InkOwl


This September The InkOwl is teaming up with a guest poet The Wasp to bring you a mix of Blood and Anxiety. These poems were inspired by life events, personal experiences, and a desire to share differing perspectives on relationships. If you’re interested in participating in future corroborations with The InkOwl please feel free to message this blog from the contact page.

Blood and Anxiety-Backbiters

Don’t believe the lies they’ve told,

Their bitterness is unending.

I’ve tried my best to turn a cheek,

And stepped my self away.

It does no go to wallow in their slops and pens of woe.

For they hem themselves round about,

With misery and sorrow.

-M.E. InkOwl


This September The InkOwl is teaming up with a guest poet The Wasp to bring you a mix of Blood and Anxiety. These poems were inspired by life events, personal experiences, and a desire to share differing perspectives on relationships. If you’re interested in participating in future corroborations with The InkOwl please feel free to message this blog from the contact page.

Blood and Anxiety- Banshee

Screaming, you are screaming.

Mouth open dark energy roaring from your lips.

I lay in my bed, pulling blankets up over my head.

One hand trying to stop my sobs.

But you scream on, you big scream on.

I wonder how I can make myself disappear.

Like banshees you both scream on.

-M. E. InkOwl

August’s Last Wish

Let this be my last wish,

Forever to be in your arms of golden fire.

To never stray from the path of eternal summer,

Where life is held sacred even in the smallest of living things.

Hearing a comforting buzz of a lazy bumble bee,

Or the laughing mirth of a a June stream.

Swimming by a school of rainbow trout,

Reflecting universal hues of space and time.

Twisting high and reaching for the sun with ageless grace,

A rows of corn, wheat, and alfalfa shiver in a warm wind.

Let this be my last wish,

That you and I will never part this living Summer.

-M.E. InkOwl

Deepest Roots

Beauty to the deepest root,

Flourishing beneath the fullest rose.

On the surface we see what is wanted to be seen,

But rarely do we know beyond each petal.

Patience must stretch wide open arms,

With hands holding gently to the soil.

See the whole plant roots and all,

Breathe in their wandering soul.

-M.E. InkOwl

On-The-Go- Life’s Theater

Walking tall between cloud and stone,

Listening for a valley storm.

Rumbling theater of bush and cliff,

Twisting up with finger’s stiff.

Now a wave of falling tears,

Wets the grass and rolling years.

Voices list with hissing praise,

As water flows down dusted ways.

Thank each cycle round which we live,

As dripping life ’round us is given.

-M.E. InkOwl

 

Stay

Stay,

While the moon is young in the sky.

Stay,

For a moment breathing with me.

Stay,

My bedrock, my roots, my dynasty.

-M.E. InkOwl

On-The-Go- Humble

Flit of wing upon a shifting sea,

Green and amethyst tossing in the breeze.

With a lazy loop bee meets flower,

Liquid gold has its start.

Beat of wings, exhaled breath, closing of an eye,

Off it zooms to the next tossing jewel.

Life begins, life ends, life is along each black and yellow stripe,

As watching I reside.

-M.E. InkOwl

Change

Even as I stand upon this empty lane,

I feel a shifting within the veins beneath my feet.

Something born upon the wind,

I taste in the coolness of the night.

Buzz of bee and shift of branch,

A shiver runs the world round.

“Prepare yourself,” whispers the wood,

Wisdom lining its face.

“Be malleable,” burbles the stream,

Knowledge rippling deep.

“Open yourself,” sings the sky,

Laying experience bare.

“Change,” beats my heart,

Knowing the fear inside.

-M.E. InkOwl

Archlight

Upon an open road we drive,

Leaving our history long behind.

Before us an arch of temporal powers glide,

Into this maelstrom must we hide.

For darkness gathers behind mountains of jet,

Searching to drag our spirits back.

A devourer of worlds splits ours apart,

Snuffing our light and stopping each heart.

Now rocks spit from beneath our tires,

Our bodies lurching forward feeding upon hope’s fires.

With a snap and hiss the gate closes tight,

And we transcend into streaks of blurring light.

Toward the future?

Into the past?

Only our path’s end will tell.

-M.E. InkOwl