Monday, June 18, 2007


display casual grace

a disturbing elegance to acquit the sense

of heart racing restlessness

sat back, leaned into myself and fell far away

into a shadow suffering cut glass reflection

of a foreign language

display a casual grace and hope for the word

"we give the world"

and when I said it I truly meant it

did I know then that it would be

this tar sticky heart racing waiting game

killing time

all this time wasted perfecting

another sunset perfect verse

toss it away on the nuclear wild wind


rays of glowing, through the window

a concrete burial

reflecting the metal on my black wrists

my boxed in black listed affections

for storm clouded eyes

she sits and wonders

chokes back the sadness and wanderlust

but with a purpose

that truth will only be realized through strength

and a helping hand will follow

and guide

cry from the shy

burn from the inside

and feel paper angel tears

who lend hands to carry our weight on their shoulders

beholding this....all we have created

like some giant spiderheart

like a skeleton dancing man

these angels shudder and shake in the confines

of our grief

we give the world

we wait for the word

quite alone

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