Stark Haze Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

The metanoia of
This brutal inamorata:
A sudden thrust
Of whim, a gushing
Arbitrary road.

You are a frozen brook,
A motionless clock,
A bottomless pit,
A heartless muse.

You are the estranged nuisance
That makes no sound -
The wind billows,
And the fire of the
Heavens bellow as
The gods revel in the intoxication
Of ambrosia and
Our peccadilloes.

You are the rogue
That embezzled all of
Me while I was sleeping -
I caught one of your scents
And never cared
But the moon flared,
And I knew in a dream,
You were a renegade.

The Sun you have painted
Is ominous – its tangerine
Hue rusts in the metal sky.
The rain that pours
Upon the iron sea
Shatters with each
Trickle,
Bawling for life.

You entrench each
Sunken aurora of the Sun
And weave loose travails.

I am tired
Worn-out
And consumed
By crooning the same
Maimed symphony.

Exhausted flutters
In this marred flight,
I need not to know
Where you bask in
The Sun
And where you revel
In the night -
All these are superfluous.

All I need to know is
That, I am alive,
And that the serrated grasses

Cut through my skin
To let out the putrid quagmire
And cobwebbed blood
Until I am
New,
Innocent.