Rocket Poem by Phillip Knight

Bricked rocket ship,
never leave,
let light be day,
let dark be night.
let life be love,
and death be loathe.
How I long to lay waste,
to petty knowing,
voices among the nameless faces,
the boundaries around,
bouncing black balls
and break glass bashed.

Begin,
rise to life,
sink to death.
Soar as flight
in cryptic clouds that paint mystic memories.
Part sun and moon
see only reflection.

Take me in birth,
and loose me in death.
taste pockets of oxygen,
shine life into breath.
Where only I,
no one else,
can heal the slums of my shanty form.
Passing each opportunity with desperation,
shutting out solitude as if someone broke a promise.

….But I never promised to hold you forever

Rocket reclused in empty sky.

Whispers stop.
Hush voice now stares,
eyes pale of ghostly bones,
villages and towns lay ruined by viscous waste,
bottled with blonde architecture,
homely,
yet not at home.

I lay waste to you,
waist deep in wasting worthless waste.
Laugh to the night,
momentarily missing,
I miss you,
my eye as a sniper,
the back of my head as a target.

Bang.

Brandy splashes,
now trickle down
low lit avenues,
re birth and re configuration.
How only does the breakage of those bones
resemble the mosaic they now create.
Digress and distain,
such shuttered view becomes closed mind.

Rocket into rubble