Monday, October 27, 2014

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

The Watchmen (A Gothic Tale)

Clockwise click of the crow's tongue in fives
Sister Twilight rolls her tongue in purring esophageal quakes
Five eyes keep guard of life—a sixth : dead of light—follows shadows of after-breath
Church bell casts sounding sinking seas at cliff depths ragged 
Diving swallows in atmospheric scratch striation fray the night 
Skeletal leaves fracture in cyclonic fury
Releasing sweet decaying smolder beneath silent heel crush 
Sister Silence snaps at star fury hushed in ashen cloud clasp
Brothers bow as She winds her way along ancestral earth breath
Through wrought gate pocked with seasons of wrath and seasons of lust
To the roots gnarled in marriage with moss laden grave mounds
Where the crows in murder repose slacken their tongues
And in angular tones chant, "She comes"
Leaping—claws freeing—bodies descending
Moon in silhouette frosts an absent sky  
From copper scented dirt they swell as one—his rise—her blood beating his pulse upon her drums
She watches as he breathes, wings stirring soul rust from his spectral frame
And to him she speaks, "Again"

E.A. O'Connell













E.A. O'Connell.  10/19/2014.  Chanticleer Garden.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Silhouette of Late Hours

In the dark you stood,
silhouette of late hours,
yet unmistakable.

I followed every movement,
your arms clasping your chest,
as hinges sang the opening of Pandora’s box.

From you spilled stars,
in constellations unfamiliar,

some anxiously hummed pins and needles,
—spreading—

others layered in iridescent thought,
—coiled— 

I held out my fist,
turning it skyward,
open and speaking in full moonlight,

as your tide of stars swelled and rose,
the force of their being pulling us close.

We were infinite in ourselves,
burning brighter in the closing of distance,

until we,
flesh on flesh,
were engulfed in flames of righteous bliss.

E.A. O'Connell

Friday, October 10, 2014

Wednesday, October 8, 2014