shadows of god

suns scream
a swirl of chants
clouds sigh
a halo of prayers
moons shed tears
of quiet karmas

raindrops bleed
the ghost of god

- Alison Ross

(untitled)

Horrific harmonies
and terrific cacaphonies
share a room in
the Hotel of Symphonies
and make love on the bed of epiphanies,
then share a cigarette of regret.
So now the cacaphonies sing melodies
of tragic beauty
while the harmonies screech tragedies
in discordant euphony

- Alison Ross

(untitled)

like big question marks of defiance
like exclamation points of smoke
like the debris of exploded commas
like hollow periods

are we

- Alison Ross

(untitled)

I gave birth to the shadow
that burned in your breast
like a dark sun

I invented the echo
that strangled your voice
like a blind song

I destroyed the mirror
that stole your eyes
like a burning ghost

- Alison Ross

(untitled)


The sea is on fire.
The night is bone-white
and you sing like a cemetery,
your voice stained with dirt and death.

The flames have thawed.
The day is blood-red
and you pray like a piano,
your chants filled with dreams of death.

- Alison Ross