The Shadow at Diablos' Mouth

A decade prior I was left abandoned

Adrift amongst an endless wasteland

A saunas fire amidst oven coals

To breathe,

Was to accept the sacrifice-

A burden of air and smoke

Colluding ventures accosting ridgelines of throat

Days wandering the lifeless expanse

Hours, perhaps years left alone

Wandering in search of solid land

You must continue, you must

Else nature’s evenings shall pick clean flesh from bone

Never can the index measure

The scalding sweat and feverish tremors

Yet when shady passages are caught

Relaxation comes as joy-

But linger long here you must avoid

Dunes shift purpose with tempest wind

Enshrouding vision with the granules within

Tiny grains of ecru gold

Blustering a lateral discord

Ascending only to descend again

Shielding eyes you learn well

If sight be spared, that first sandstorm’s swell

Microscopic, blurry bits

Branding leathered skin

-A thousand embers float the sky

Spin & stir, a

As clocks lose their heredity

Broken springs unwinding sanity

Mounds of nature’s gristle cast

About as if each view was just your last

Mental games you speak aloud

Drafting fantasies to suit you self

Yet as a cast of powder blue

Peaks to eye from apportioned dune

You want to scream or cry,

Scream then cry and cry in scream

But confidence itself has lost its seam

Instead of race to plunge into waters cool

You hasten steps through moving tan

Believing you’re outwitting the deceivers plan

The calm surface, blue and white

Trickling waves, true or false it flashes floods

Despite the suspect mind

The euphoric bliss splashes fine

You pause at the wet

Sandy gray tidal sweat

Lids lower, orbs roll

Softly bristling, a-burst to attentive hair

And you wait,

Allowing hallucination it’s time of play

You wait,

Allowing sensation a pause to dissipate

As the fantasy blend the real

You ignore position unnerved

There’s nobody

For eternities near

All tracks have bathed

All sense of location

All pangs of direction

Awash…

 To the pristine clear, rising a shallow peak

 To fade into an aqueous fold of arm

You care not what shall be tomorrow

For today you’ll drink

Expunge the parching of teeth

For today you’ll dream

Unafraid of inhalation, you breathe the desert deep

Not concerned with Devils crawling

Strip down from your rags you do

Then submerse yourself into the bluest cool

Without the temple of time to keep

You’ve no clue the length immersed in peace

Yet wrinkled patterns form to palm

And decide to rest the night

And for one evening you may

Sleep under stars, clear of the fearful dreads

 The rapture’s that howl when catching scent

Still astir the heat dispersed

To the crafty breeze the vast beholds

Into tent you would go soon

Just a few more hours to spend

With toes dipped into water’s bed

The cool dreams of evening have since left

Baking under hammock spine

You swiftly head to dive

That was when you saw the darkness pass

A black-grey anomaly, covets sky

Painting its shadow overhead

You try and make the image out

But the lack of heat alive in shade

Clouds thought bittersweet

Atop beach

Inches from the drink

You understand

Quite clearly now

This barren shroud

Shall collect your soul

Mind shifts to pondering

How shall it hap?

Will anima separate

Before or after eyes blind

From a stinging wet

Matriculating from head to chest

Salty to tongue and moist to touch

You dive in deep right then

And decide these tears you’ve won

Happy enough to have found

The water, sand and sun

 Well, while a few days past post-time, I still wanted to get this piece into D'Verse, where Victoria hosted a discussion on art and poetry.  The forum deals primarily with textures, and asks the poetic community to compose their most texturally enriched poems, those that you can feel and somehow touch.  As a dabbling artist, which those familiar with my site are accustomed to seeing the paintings and designs I post fairly regularly, I love the ideas of texture, what it means to the painter as well as what it brings to the viewer.  I often try to incorporate the senses into many of the pieces I post over at My poetry site.  I agree and believe that texture adds depth and layering, not only to the art in the visual sense, but also into the art of written work as well.