Versanick (versanick) wrote,

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Death and Solstice

You talked to the stars,
And when they didn't save you,
You traveled out to them,
On vodka fumes and snow-white cocaine dreams.

Your orbit swung from pole to pole
Over a chaotic, conspiratorial world,
Where gods and devils drove black limmos,
Leaving messages on your answering machine.

At the center of your labyrinth,
You took false comfort
In colored glass bottles and primal screaming,
In trash collages and pizza-box poetry,
In prayers to the empty, echoing vaults of Heaven.

You reached up from your prismatic prison,
One time damned, twice condemned, still you touched us.
Your quiet miracles went unnoticed
By stars and Heaven and Mother Earth alike.
The few of us who could tune you in,
Through puns and garlic fumes,
Past the guarded doors and the tripwires,
Over sputtering phones and talk in riddles,
We salute you.
With empty hearts and grieving hands, we salute you.

And so, I hammer these words home, one by one.
I would say a prayer for you,
But I am so afraid
Of the echoes bouncing back
>From Heaven's cold and empty walls.
I'd light a candle for you,
But the flame will never keep you warm.

Did your world burst asunder, in a flicker of blasted astonishment,
Like the blood vessel in your punished brain?
Or did your soul, intact to the end,
Shatter at your feet like broken bones?
Or maybe it left your cooling meat,
Once proven, twice free,
To look down and cackle madly,
At the punch line of a trickster life.

As the Earth stands at the top of her shimmering path in the sky,
And slowly starts her ballerina twirl through zodiac,
I will loose these words upon the winds of Solstice day,
And I will draw a deep, clean breath of Life,
And I will bid you safe journey.
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