That sparkles all different waters.

Lyrics

I live in a haunted house, it is 4 am
My limbs are freezing, once again
The witches and goblins here will kill me
And that will be the end of me.

I feel cold scared and numb
No words, or way out, I feel quite dumb
I feel like I’m being watched day and night
Sudden terrifying images give me fright.

Bad things lurk in the dark
Life used to be a lark
Something funny is coming my way
It wants to hurt me and say:

I stabbed your eyes
I stabbed your tongue
I cut your toes
I sliced you up.

The darkness inside of this house coils
Where I go my blood boils;
If I die the demon will smile
If I die the demon will revile

The life I lived
The girl I was
Each day
Slowly draining

* i te teror 2

No way out nowhere to go
Where I go I do not know
Flighty caged and weak
I hear the voices when I speak.

Quaking aside dark dreams
Of bombs and ghosts and murders
Where do I go? What do I do?
I am scared for my life.

I feel like someone will open up the door
Open it up and peel me out
Eat me and spit out my bones
I’ll die with no tombstone.

Where do I go I don’t know
To an early grave I’ll go
Once more you I salute
I’ll play my magic flute.

Found: December 27, 2018, growing in shelves out of a living White Oak tree

Pileus: 8-9 cm, convex, lined at the margin, color vivid teal, glabrous, white ridges appressed to the surface

Stipe: 6cm x 4cm, white, dense, curved, equal, no ringzone, hirsute

-younger specimens transparent, with mushier flesh

The World of Jamaica

My oldest friend, how fare thee now?
Though a block in the night separates us—
Your window’s glow practically lights my own—
Yet in my heart you feel more distant still.

Where have the tides of life brought you, these years?
How comes it that you return to this Wood?
My heart leaps for a thousand trite questions;
It returns to the moment you kissed me.

When we were children and all the world fair
Nature had circumscribed blocks for our love
And put up houses without beginning
Or the end which gradually we brought up.

All of that time surrounds me now, and
The fabric between us
That no matter we grow apart
Tethers all is, will be.

Burnt to the ground
heart a waste

tired and drained

Abandon all that I begin
Empty headed
Ventriloquist

Insuperable gloom
analytical
stuck in my head
Can’t leave

Trapped in
myself
buried   live.

Found: December 13, 2018. Standing in the kitchen with no lights on behind her.

Head: Dark brown hair falling to her shoulders. Chin a pert bump on her face, eyes twinkling. “Did you use that toilet after the whole incident?”

Disposition: Wrathful. Aggravated. Frustrated. Pessimistic.

Tone: Whining, half-yell.

//

Head: Dark brown hair (long scissor cut on top, four on the sides), cheeks cold from my walk.

Disposition: Confused, indifferent, positive, surprised, empathetic.

Heard: You don’t care about anything.
Maybe you’ll start caring once you own your own home—if you get to that point.

Thoughts afterwards: I do nothing?
I care about nothing?
Focus on your mushroom.

Remembering: Why I left.

//

Found: Amanita oneiria. Growing out of a mesa.

Pileus: ~300 feet, white, umbonate, wavering margin, reminiscent of Inocybe albodisca. Smooth. Unornamented.

Gills: White, crowded, broad, free.

Stipe: 3-400 feet tall x 50 feet wide, colored as cap, membranous veil, smooth but firm.

-I blinked and the mushroom crumbled. Voices on the wind passed through my ears before fading into eternity.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

Tremella

golden Tremella
glistening yellow
like the sun

I pluck you from rain-wet grass
wrap you in aluminum
and put you in my paper bag

Icy Morning Mushrooms

Barnacles on a log
Silk and velvet polypores
Rust

Ocean

The ocean
Where shifting waves peel open blue,
On my sea chair
I rock up and down a cold emerald wave.

Where am I?
Poised between sea and sky, where
Clouds drift
With their tale of deserts and limes.

O decaying world, in the mind I seek
Rest, and waves, sun, and pale
Untrammeled sky, ribbon of myself cut
Again and again.

Look
Out the window at the green and blue,
Earth connected to sky by lightning-armed trees
Devastation without and within.

I clutch a pale hope
That song can
Heal the world,
That music, balm of ages

Will flood the world.

You sit under the midday’s summer sky
A tranquil shade of baby’s blue
So soft you feel as if you could reach out and embrace it,
The sheer beauty gives a deep resonating effect
You would find no other place but deep inside your heart

But the spell is broken as a
Wave of heat rolls over you, as the sun emerges
Triumphantly over a mass of billowy cotton
A single drop of sweat drops off your temple
And descends through the air like a knife through
Butter and quickly dissolves into the cracked, dry earth

You yawn as the sun starts to sink lower and lower into
Pink-tinted sky and darkness starts to creep up like
An animal emerging from its den. A cycle that keeps
Repeating but is always beautiful no matter how many
Times you’ve witnessed it.

The leaves of the old and gnarled oak tree you sit under
Sway together in perfect unison from a breeze that
Originated on the cool crests of the ocean
And it all starts to fade, into submission, as you passively
Doze off. The last thing you hear before sleep takes
You, is the solitary buzz of a cicada before it peacefully
Dies. Nothing will last.