Carey Rose O'Connell
The Feaster
I improved my vision
when I allowed my soul to use my eyes I rose into collective wisdom when I allowed my selves to come forward and materialize I am the individuality of five helically wrapped into the hologram of one I speak the voices exhaled by the stones and translate the songs of the sun I am the feaster I breathe energy and eat rising fear I am the feaster I bleed synergy and drink falling tears I am the feaster I walk in spirals and die with each step I am the feaster I love in sacral and translate our next I am the feaster
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Protyle
kiss souls and smear the color
of our lips that speak go silent and write with our eyes all that we know to be marry into the shadow figures that spin starlight into our common threads sew together the bedding on which we lay our tired heads feel experience happening bleeding edges into protyle run through wide open fingers blur the seconds into miles go silent and write with our eyes all that we know to be Pilikia
the button held
like heart on sleeve each press, a new name spelt click, turn and leave view-maskers slide moment turns on release finger and heart collide premature skip de-pressed the left besides the pilikia of her ever want edited clips make up curved svelte distracting pearl ellipse endings withheld the looped collide frame by frame cut to shelves refined applied the last won’t leave her button kept upright |
Micropoetry
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she fell to knees
squeezed the earth with her lips and refilled the well When I think of you Fuego llena el corazón My skin falls in blush |
Her tears fell Creating ripples In gravity |
Wooden flute
Culling the breeze Awakens my evergreen heart Morning winds brush Out falling locks Of balding trees |