Category: Poetry

Mortality Beyond Divinity

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

Gods misunderstand
Death—Death himself
Deathless misunderstands
Forever destruction—forever
Loss—a self that decays inside
Itself until it disappears.

A god, from a full-
Bodied god can become a
Lesser-bodied god—an
Insignificant pinpoint of
Flickering ether, but still
Sovereign though infinitesimal and
Over unbounded time can
Gather unto its own flickering
Ether substance—body new
Come to body that was and
Will be forever

Body new come to body eternal that
Misunderstands body new
Come to dust
Depersonalized as dust comes
To gather to itself
A noisome film
On the cradle ledge of an infinitely
Born and born and born
Infant god

-M.
(Day 12 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

Little Trees Do

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

Dragging the little tree’s
Corpse behind me a
Diatribe to the heatwaves
Rising from the cement

It’s not you, little tree
Doing what little trees do
Maybe even trying to
Shade the porch in
Your little tree ugly
Intrusive volunteer way.

It’s not you little tree
It’s the gardener
Who let you grow
Lets the rose bushes
Grow too
Evil arms that reach and
Grab in the walk

Blind to anything
Apparently
But mow and go—
Especially go.

-M.
(Day 9 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

I’m Really a Nice Lady

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

I respect you less because
You love me unconditionally

I don’t respect you at all

You went in for a kiss and
I gave you my neck

Enough perfume to keep
You panting for another year

As if you needed a reason, dog-
-ed devotion is an un-sexy face

You let me shatter you
And I shatter you

A matter of course like college boys becoming
Sadistic prison guards when

Given the go-on by closet sadistic
Psychiatrists in the name of a science

Doomed to perpetual infancy, grow
A pair

And some hair and tell me to
My face I’m a bitch

Be a goddamned man
Stop dotting your hearts with

I… I… I… am not worth it
Have made myself not worth it

On purpose you shake
My linear foundations

One pulsing emotion that you are
I look down on you

for that too.

-M.
(Day 6 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

My Footprints Alone

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

Dear god, I would prefer
You not
Carry me over the rocks

I would prefer
You let my feet touch earth
Once in a while

A smothering love
That atrophies my appendages—
Hobbles my run and walk

Is no proper penance
For absenteeism and
Hard neglect

And me allowing it—
The crippling love
Is no proper forgiveness

Find another way
Find another way
Find another way

-M.
(Day 5 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)

Critics Rightly Observe My Poetry Often Lacks Context

~ M. Ashley ~ Leave a comment

It could be anything
An orange peel
Sunset on a fractured path
Sunrise
On a fractured path
Cellulite on a fake-tanned
Thigh gone terribly wrong

Funky cheese

See here. See here. See here.
I’ve got my pointer out
Round the borders with every
Line-measure of words

But
Did you notice
Never on the actual
Thing

My frustration is quantifiable
I’ve made a chart
See here. See here. See here.
Just to the left of the
Glowing picture screen

Reader
I think we have both
Lost touch

It might have been longing
It might have been
Sunset on a fractured heart
Or some such
Trite shit as that

I give
Give up with me
Let’s call it

Funky cheese

Put our heads down on our desks
And take a nap

Poetry sucks anyway

-M.
(Day 4 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)