Two Poems by Scot Gresham-Lancaster

When white is black
all the bones change
the notes are spread as wings
above a storm

The horseman acts alone
but in fatigue meanders,

filled with moisture

When resonance is silence
The tears of God become our wheat

Broken bread is fractured;

No splint for the will,

the starving child
What excited virgin is tasting blood
as the drums are hammering home?
What soldier's itchy finger scratching?

The winded runner stumbles
The skies are burning brightly
Distance stars are mother's eyes
Sails unfurled, filled with bile

When black is white
The sun becomes the night

Lux Aeterna
In Paradesum de ducat angelis
perducant te Jerusalem
Te decet hymnus Deus in Sion,
et tibi in Jerusalem
Luceat eis et lux perpetua
Luceat eis domine
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna
In Paradesum de ducat angelis
perducant te Jerusalem
Te decet hymnus Deus in Sion,
et tibi in Jerusalem
Luceat eis et lux perpetua
Luceat eis domine
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna
Lux aeterna Luceat eis domine
In aeterna qui a pius est
Lux aeterna Luceat eis domine
In aeterna qui a pius est
Luceat eis et lux petpetua
luceat eis domine
Lux aeterna Luceat eis domine
Lux aeterna Luceat eis domine
Lux aeterna Luceat eis domine
In aeterna Return>>

The stomachs of giant fish
are dried to make the lanterns
and the children sing the corn

Waves are breaking
behind closed eyes
pinwheels from ether
dance to strings unsung

Tigers are wearing all our spacesuits
the oxygen is slowly burning
the roaring is unending
in the diamonds of the night

Drunken sailors are pissing
into the open mouths of baby birds
and all the clocks are broken
for the final time

A campfire of flame retardant pajamas
ignited by safety officers in cowboy hats
unused syringes litter the campground
and the throbbing will not stop

Break me, breaking you in
Glass and sugar
Take me, taking you in
Photos made of stone

The rhythms migrate with
the rarest birds
wings chaffed with open sores

Crabs patrol the hallways
of the broken space station
hoping for the mangled
claw repair kit

The first in line
is executed with the
sharpest knives
The surgeon is not there

The last one in
is the first one out
when the condom dispenser
bursts into flame

Cigarettes and gasoline
make the perfect match

The spiders have the laser unit
the webs are glowing ruby red
The compound eyes of all the flies
are flickering with wild spirals
The moths are filled with dread

Fake me, faking you
in a house of puss and glue
Pretend the clocks are working
Brother Sun

Sparrows pick the maggots
from the dying eyes of strangers
Love grows in dark chambers
filled with broken glass and snow

Ashes are falling on the pilgrims
and launch pad is on fire
flamingos are mixing the explosives
for the final jihad

Minuteman terrorists slaughter
babies on Bunker Hill
A ritual sacrifice of burning tea and honey
made for the mother of all flags

Take me; taking you
to the forest of the night
the hot wax melts
across the broken mirror

Remember me to the child
that lost his way
The guns and knives of broken dreams
are whispering curses
at your grave

The voices remind me
of the icons eyes
made of spaceships and
exotic beasts
made of prayers and dreams

Praise me; praising you
with all that is holy the spirit of the mourning
is breaking into light
the passion of the cross
is making the weeping sores
turn to gold
Lux Aeterna