Thursday, August 27, 2015

from Claws this Pause

In a dream a bear cub came to me
to tell me I would die without glory, and I did
not cry, for somehow I knew this had always been
true.  I thanked him by offering my hand
to shake or eat, whichever
is more appropriate in dreams these days.
He refused both,
mumbled something about being
a germaphobic vegan, two things I know little about
so I said nothing as I watched him walk away.

I woke the next morning, still chained to the life
of a man I did not respect, a man who did not
even know the entirety of my name, and I decided
the bear was a messenger meant to bleed
me like a bullet.  I gave myself up
to the transfusion, walked out of the upside down
life I had been hiding under, and tried
once again to teach my eyes the difference
between the shapes of shadow and sun.

A.J. Huffman

Concentric Circles

scream like air
that isn’t there.  I
can see them, mocking
me from shallow shadows.
I long to play
inside their expansive embrace,
but I am collapsing
inside myself as if I were
a reflection of their falling.
Call me Ishmael
and hand me a harp.
I have every intention
of singing as I go down
with this invisible ship.
A.J. Huffman


I Am Crucifixion

abandoned idol, hanging in penance
for others’ sins.  Stripped to the waist, nailed
to splintering symbol of my own faith.
Wearing crown of thorns, I am blessed rose,
marking universal grave.  Sacrificed,
I am anonymous figure, assuming blame.  I am
mother, daughter, holy ghost
of flesh discarded.  I am expendable
angel, dying in plain sight.
A.J. Huffman


This is Affliction

I did not want the weight of place,
refused the floor.  I chose
to dangle like the ghost of a hybrid
orchid, picked by childish hands
that did not understand my vibrancy.
In a glass cage with no ceiling,
I dream and sing of absence.
I am cursed with the gift of shatter,
but am unable to use it for myself.

A.J. Huffman