Black Locust Death

The black locust death
Of bittersweet gold
Bathing youth of memories
Burying harmony of endings
A reaping violet splendid to the nose
The perfume of her crowning womb
And enamored
Am I
By wicked roots 
Biting through frost ridden soil
Trellised by a slant of blush light
Her countenance:
Cello storm building
Violin flutter distancing
Her stature a symphony:
Blood printed piano keys
And songless birds
Who’s wind chime bones
Echo in flight

E.A. O'Connell

Black Locust

The black locust: a scent that owns each hour it blooms

Lush like velvet : delicate press of the lips : cool surface : warmth tucked within the thick

Perfume movement : a Van Gogh breeze : stars in dance of light

White blossoms that strike violet

I define as clarity : serenity : an answer to a question I have yet to ask

My head fills with the music of Forever

My tongue wakes the shape of X {sounding Xochitl}

E.A. O'Connell

Lady Lundi

Lady Lundi
Adorned in marigold freckled armor
Charred under lacings secreted beneath hinged casings
A rigor mortis fashion of limbs and barbed fascinators
Defying gravity : Opposing principles of night
Her eyes {milky death}
Further a fractured fresco
Deep to the dark of neighboring spinster life
Beds of sick and lips dehydrated quiet

Father Mantis
Burnished summer stems praying pardon
Under sleek flames of sun steel
Magnifying the rash of cicadian mating distortion
Siren of bow and strings impaling corvus shadows
Sloughing doppelgänger precipitate: clove fragrant and syrup thick  
In shroud the ultraviolet voice of homily
Amassing ladybirds devouring hysteria

Early Tuesday indigo hours
Atop a crucifix betwixt an equinox
Shrill is the architecture
Blood spilled in the moonlight

E.A. O'Connell

Phalaenopsis Woman

Phalaenopsis Woman:
forest dweller of the night's wealth
She bathes in warm spring saturation
the lilac atmosphere of the evening in crush
elements in a humid acid surge
sweat beading ∞ linking ∞ chaining
from blanketed branches {softened moss and fractal lichen}
She awaits Him...

internal fever building {the anticipation: core welling} 
cotton stitch adhering 
Her skin glistens an amethyst sheen
His earthshine eyes pulled to each niche {wherein the fabric hides}
She acknowledges Mercury with a silent smile 
the discarded fabric a puddle of nocturnes in whisper with each ripple 
{the flutter of moth wings} / {the flutter of leap}
skin bare to the grass fed breeze
sweat spirographs Her body...

Her breasts
{supple}
fit to His palms
{supple}
His lips spread
{supple}

[...
His head muddied: accusatory fear 
{vivid beauty synonymous with venomous seal} 
He hungers / He surrenders all sense / He tastes Her flesh
{not all venoms sting bitter on the palate : not all sins correspond with Hell}
...]

lilac atmosphere pressed between Their bodies
Their sweat fusing {ecospheric universes in chaos}
and She folds Him into Her curves
Their bodies: crescent ~ eclipse ~ blue
and the descent of Her raises him higher
{higher still}
an ecstasy in the spectrum of Her...

{retrograde : thief of words : void of voice}
language for Him finally {spacially} hits His tongue {sensually}
as He breathes in hues and shapes Her name 
{He: savant of illuminate * She: sage of still}

E.A. O'Connell

Moon Over Reservoir

moon over reservoir
an indiphire refracted mercury wildscape
gargoyled by ink blown cormorants wading the arsenic falls
trees shoulder the stars as the wind kneels upon the water's sheen
an earth shift of unison breathing and neck magnetism
-the flutter / the lay-
an aria of incisions to the hydra-plane 

and from the celestial chaos casting back upon a shadowed visage
divinities widowed of astral threads
step through and rise upon the water's sheen
borrowing tobacco halos to rouge their lips
they sing no answers to man, nor beast
they simply web beauty through Spring's nocturnal temper

E.A. O'Connell

For Remembrance

Rosemary beds 

                            upon my tongue

                            each word

                            pressed to my teeth 

the burdened oil

bleeds

                            and I’m overcome

evergreen

E.A. O'Connell

Here is the Church

a brick facade 
shaken to the foundation 
a loosened stability
a door slams, the windows rattle
as a brick plummets
a bruise vocalized
it's a crack, it's a crumble
little hands receive the red dust 
nurtured into the fingertips
drawing a home
of child-sized dimensions, in an elementary geometry
standing within the frame
on pavement set feet
a brick chip pressed to the left foot
a line is pulled 
up ^ over > down: 
a body within the four walls, 
“here is the church”
arms in reach, hands peak with fingers pressing into one another
“here is the steeple”
brick dust about the mouth
a keyhole outline
“open the doors”
eyes slowly shut
sun streaming, illuminating interior lid shadows
“see all the people”

E.A. O'Connell