In our craft a boat is built
Around us which carries us home
On a cradle floating down the river
Coursing through the thicket of our hearts
Pounding in unison at the door of our song
Escaping between the bars of a cage
Fashioned of pure molten nickel iron
Spun into the flowering gravity bound well
Beyond our electromagnetic capacity to resist
8/06/15
7/31/15
HITCHER HIKED
Serial killer Jack at stroke of midnight party
Order swallowed whole the rarest diamonds
Into a gradually collapsed thunder clap
Seasoned prayer rope around a tree branch
Mission cruise control wheel-barrowed
Metric round robins pecking by the sea.
Order swallowed whole the rarest diamonds
Upheaval dared to cope with missing teeth
and tonsils relegated to ululations
Faded from memory's quietest decree.
That of driving in a new complete direction
Toward a riot storm of colors shrieking still
Across the windshields and then catapulted
Past the final vanquished point to disappear
That of driving in a new complete direction
Toward a riot storm of colors shrieking still
Across the windshields and then catapulted
Past the final vanquished point to disappear
Into a gradually collapsed thunder clap
Like an already forgotten whisper in the ear
Hitcher hiked along with us and exulted
in the trap to which he'd gotten us to steer
7/19/15
GROUND LEVEL
When I lower
my eyelids
down here
in the basement
Shutting out this
city neighbor
hood I can begin
to hear the wind
Ruffled fur and smell
the decaying mouse
making no sound
outside my window
my eyelids
down here
in the basement
Shutting out this
city neighbor
hood I can begin
to hear the wind
Ruffled fur and smell
the decaying mouse
making no sound
outside my window
6/12/15
PETALVIEW
The stars—
captured mayflies
in crystalline suspension
—echo their harmonies.
Each unique instrument
across this spectrum
adds to the symphony
of the multiverse.
Hearts explode
within the macroplasm.
Lungs expand and collapse here.
Shadows of these events
seen as grotesque forms
interplay against the interior
of these lit up circus tents.
The filaments of rungs
to which we've clung
remain as diminishing
notes ever present.
We who are shown clearly
are now fleeting
from the point of view
of the stars
captured mayflies
in crystalline suspension
—echo their harmonies.
Each unique instrument
across this spectrum
adds to the symphony
of the multiverse.
Hearts explode
within the macroplasm.
Lungs expand and collapse here.
Shadows of these events
seen as grotesque forms
interplay against the interior
of these lit up circus tents.
The filaments of rungs
to which we've clung
remain as diminishing
notes ever present.
We who are shown clearly
are now fleeting
from the point of view
of the stars
3/22/15
DROP SEED
Just because I dreamed that I fell off the Earth
and while I dropped through outer space slung
shot from our planet's thrall and out to bank
about the Sun only to be further outward flung
to drop away from our fuzzy gray Oort Cloud
and glowing Astrosphere into the spinning
gravity well of the nearest star system only
about four light years away from here and
dried like a mummy on the way only to be
resurrected on another planet in a drop of
water doesn't mean it couldn't really happen.
and while I dropped through outer space slung
shot from our planet's thrall and out to bank
about the Sun only to be further outward flung
to drop away from our fuzzy gray Oort Cloud
and glowing Astrosphere into the spinning
gravity well of the nearest star system only
about four light years away from here and
dried like a mummy on the way only to be
resurrected on another planet in a drop of
water doesn't mean it couldn't really happen.
excerpt from Speed Demon
a short story by Shaun Lawton
3/19/15
SAILBOUND BOOK
How the cry of a gull or the roar of the wind
becomes our story, how we are written into it.
This is how we are drawn into the ocean.
The odyssey I've fallen into has passed depths
to be measured against the brightness of a dream
and reflected back at me, the haunting image
of my past's alternate selves, one in particular
heading the rest, a forgotten waif, made the best of it,
Pinky's there, in his vest, the rest in their Sunday worst.
The host of forgotten fantasies, to which I toast
a languid goodbye, at the most, drifting along
unheard of among cities on the coast
where the foam of waves whispers my name
in your hoarse voices, so the crash of waves
upon the rocks cries out your names in my own voice
and mingled, our soliloquy melts upon the winds above the sea.
becomes our story, how we are written into it.
This is how we are drawn into the ocean.
The odyssey I've fallen into has passed depths
to be measured against the brightness of a dream
and reflected back at me, the haunting image
of my past's alternate selves, one in particular
heading the rest, a forgotten waif, made the best of it,
Pinky's there, in his vest, the rest in their Sunday worst.
The host of forgotten fantasies, to which I toast
a languid goodbye, at the most, drifting along
unheard of among cities on the coast
where the foam of waves whispers my name
in your hoarse voices, so the crash of waves
upon the rocks cries out your names in my own voice
and mingled, our soliloquy melts upon the winds above the sea.
1/27/15
SARDONYX
Point the deathbone
At the moon, anoint
A blue ceramic bowl
With drops of blood
Study the splatters
Of streaking fluids
The way you would
A snowflake or tulips
Enter the cavern of
All of our fears so
We can cast shadows
On Christendom
A patch of leprosy
Grows upon the thigh
Of a virgin while they
Thrive ruining resistance
As the ocean wind on
The sails of a lost
Ship captured by us
With persistence
Turns out to reflect
The worst piracy of
Our lives stared at
In mirrors of our I
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