Monday, June 18, 2007
Untitled
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
atmosphere
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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment