by Asher Black

work
and bleed
and write with the blood
but that won’t stop the bleeding
and that won’t make me happy
and yet I too can’t stop
until The End

This was written
January 8, 2002

by Asher Black

We are a race of murderers.
And it’s my race.
It’s my face behind the guns.

by Asher Black

Still Full of Stars

You chose them over me
But it was never either/or

If human sacrifice is right
Then nothing matters

Not promises
Not honor

You tell me to go with God.
Can there be a God who demands that?

You didn’t consult me
You just pushed me over

I love you for your mind, you said.
But one mind was better than two

And you want me to go quietly
With nothing drastic

Can’t I love you enough to die?

You’re killing me
You don’t have to

But you won’t listen
You have to go, you say

And your words become careful

I’m a friend
You don’t say that you’re a friend

You love me “as” and “as”
You’ve forgotten that you love me forever

You speak of a door closing
You have to close it

You let me in to a castle for one
And you can’t tell the one door from the other

You ask me to trust you
But you won’t trust me

Either you think I’m not the one
Or you’re willing to do this to him too

You prayed “please never leave”
Again and again you entreated me

And I swore and will not repent
And it is you who have left

You said we consume each other
And now I am spit out

You say you carry me inside
But what about this hell outside

You’ve left me out here

You said you searched for me all your life
And now you won’t for a moment consider

This voice crying out to you
There is another way

You push, and I fall
And here I am, mangled

And the abyss is full of stars, yes
It is still full of stars

by Asher Black

As a friend.
As a brother.
I love you as…
Beyond reason.
World without end.
I don’t love you as.
And I can do it without sex.

by Asher Black

Proudly on the pond
I will not fly away.
Ripples for words
Will be enough.
Bodies yes,
But keeping ourselves afloat.

This was written
February 19, 2002

by Asher Black

Newspaper ad whining for attention
You can have him if he comes to you
(Did. Stayed and Jack took him.)
Years paled of camping and companionship
Up and died in front of Jack
from a failed heart that gave
it’s last tremulous heave to Jack
and settled in a fluff of time
Whittled away in splinters
like those of Jack’s army knife
caressing a big stick
thrown for Cotton.

by Asher Black

Not everyone who bleeds forever is Prometheus
Not all who are doomed to offend Heaven
Are heroes who have stolen its fire

Some of us bleed and bleed
And write with the blood
And that doesn’t stop it
And all we write is crimson and gore

This was written
January 7, 2002

by Asher Black

I will walk
Into the world with you
It can be any world
I will take no candle

I will stay
Where you remain with me
It can be anywhere
I will bring no time

I never will leave
Forever will pass me
I will not outrun it
Nor outrun you

This was written
November 26th, 2001

by Asher Black

A man passes the bread platter,
Having the courage not to take his share,
Listening with ferocity,
Swallowing pangs of saying nothing,
Despite the kicks in his groin
As she grates about his job;
This is how a man loves.

Out in the thorns
A bull struggles at the ropes;
He pulls and pulls,
Tearing the wood from the gnarled earth,
Breaching the hymen of the air,
His flanks of foam and minerals,
Smelling of sun.

This is royalty in the West,
In the seed and the spit that makes milk;
A man is not terrified of death
Because he knows his origin;
In fingers not made of clay
is clay made Adam;
His solemn life is din and youth
Under someone’s breath
that makes living stone.

This was written
November 10, 1993

by Asher Black

I am the onion uncreate
sensual reflections on a pond
easy to look at
easy

This was written
October 23, 1993

by Asher Black

What goes fast must be slowed
to compensate.
What is sudden must be long
to reinstate.
Who loves hard must hurt more
(commensurate).
Who dreams must lose sleep.
Passion awaits compassion.
Lust awaits trust.
I think I’ll just kick myself in the head now.

This was written
August 06, 1993

by Asher Black

Down… coming down
fragments hit ground
and aerosol fills the dome
the center lights the gas
at mach six the wave expands
and all implodes
crushed by giant hands
dust fine as glass
a whole fucking town

And those on the edge
eardrums split
eyes explode
organs collapse
and God help you
if you’re old
or a child
or carrying one perhaps

They call it dumb
that bomb
because it doesn’t know
whether you’re 3-years old
your ideology? doesn’t care
it hits the crowded square
at the busiest hour
air power
and there is no air

This was written
July 02, 1993

by Asher Black

Playing doubles in the rubble
Industrial trash and thrash
Coffee and herbal tea
Open mike and spikes

You’re very intelligent.
You’re different.
You’re sweet.
Am I?

This was written
April 23, 1993