//1//
the immortal breath
a shiver of trees
to bend
and bow
then stand with ease
in grace return
to embrace the sun
gentle and strong
separate and one
//2//
the breeze is
God's awakening
breath of peace
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wake Up
wake up!
the wind whispers
it screams as a hurricane
it tears as a tornado
a message washed up
by tidal wave on a wrecked beach
all over it transmits
in the only language it knows
the dialect is destruction
it speaks for us
from the depths
we are tired of this
it's time for something new
wake up and create!
from the wake of devastation
in the ruin of desolation
comes the breath of creation
do not fear the reaper
nor scorn the messenger
the storm is a letter
that few hear
whipping up gusts that twist our guts
violently it falls on deaf ears
our pain is a howl
wake up! it says
i am calling
answer yourselves
the wind whispers
it screams as a hurricane
it tears as a tornado
a message washed up
by tidal wave on a wrecked beach
all over it transmits
in the only language it knows
the dialect is destruction
it speaks for us
from the depths
we are tired of this
it's time for something new
wake up and create!
from the wake of devastation
in the ruin of desolation
comes the breath of creation
do not fear the reaper
nor scorn the messenger
the storm is a letter
that few hear
whipping up gusts that twist our guts
violently it falls on deaf ears
our pain is a howl
wake up! it says
i am calling
answer yourselves
There Are Two Of Us
there are two of us
voice and echo
but which is true
i do not know
my twin and i
sharing a single mind
a battle of wits
a silent verbal spar
endless repartee
unceasing contradiction torn
ripped apart in finer moments
sisters in paradox
seeking the same
but in battle opposed
rarely to look one another
square in the eye
which is the voice
and which the echo?
which the first
and which the scion?
there are two of us
i know not which am i
voice and echo
but which is true
i do not know
my twin and i
sharing a single mind
a battle of wits
a silent verbal spar
endless repartee
unceasing contradiction torn
ripped apart in finer moments
sisters in paradox
seeking the same
but in battle opposed
rarely to look one another
square in the eye
which is the voice
and which the echo?
which the first
and which the scion?
there are two of us
i know not which am i
I Give Myself
revel in my sorrows
so that i may behold the guts of the world
to spill them forth
diurnal death at the hand of a pen
sharpened like a metal nib
i give myself to the red tide
seeping sepia
this daedal paradox
akin to morning glory
i swell and bloom and bleed
then fade and furl
by sunset gone
so that i may behold the guts of the world
to spill them forth
diurnal death at the hand of a pen
sharpened like a metal nib
i give myself to the red tide
seeping sepia
this daedal paradox
akin to morning glory
i swell and bloom and bleed
then fade and furl
by sunset gone
We Who Cannot Love
the corona of a tear
rips apart the pool
entranced by our nemesis
we who cannot love
our corpses bloom
leaving flowers on graves
the bell of daffodil echoes
it tolls silently for thee
rips apart the pool
entranced by our nemesis
we who cannot love
our corpses bloom
leaving flowers on graves
the bell of daffodil echoes
it tolls silently for thee
Untitled
and you see me
in your spectral gaze
fluid yet fixed in your snare
always graceful
even in downfall
for i am no dimension
but time
where you see
distorted
hollows filled
i am not me
but a construct
edited in type
whittled down
exalted there
so that you may catch a glimpse
fleeting
stranded in your butterfly net
and for that moment you possess me
to think of me as you wish
but i am elsewhere
you never really had me
but only what i let you see
which could be all lies
but at the very least
an artful illusion
polished rough from dull stone
smoothed off edges
i could not let you see me bare
so knowing this
read me as you dare
in your spectral gaze
fluid yet fixed in your snare
always graceful
even in downfall
for i am no dimension
but time
where you see
distorted
hollows filled
i am not me
but a construct
edited in type
whittled down
exalted there
so that you may catch a glimpse
fleeting
stranded in your butterfly net
and for that moment you possess me
to think of me as you wish
but i am elsewhere
you never really had me
but only what i let you see
which could be all lies
but at the very least
an artful illusion
polished rough from dull stone
smoothed off edges
i could not let you see me bare
so knowing this
read me as you dare
Untitled
thank you Emily
i too dwell in possibility
my muse a will o' wisp
that ghostly fire of fools
flickering over twilight water
still like this mind
begging to be disturbed
as i am led astray
i too dwell in possibility
my muse a will o' wisp
that ghostly fire of fools
flickering over twilight water
still like this mind
begging to be disturbed
as i am led astray
Untitled
idling gracefully
with nimble step
and spirit free
much like a child with arms outstretched like butterfly wings
meandering by a bubbling stream
but i am no child
my stream is of traffic
stalled not by rocks
but jutting lights
glowing emerald, garnet, ruby
i am alight in my own fancy
wrapped in a peace
that could slip away so easily
as if yanked by unseen hands
my eyes dart sidewards
for no reason but to steal of the world
to suck it into my glory
four eyes return my gaze
my world pulls away from me
as edges rush in
a sly "Hello" breaks in
and my voice echoes back
a lie
not truly greeting but cool dismissal
"Nice glasses. They look good on you.
And Gucci too."
"Thank you"
my reply laced with condescension
for men who think they can win you on a street corner
men who don't really see you
i care not for you
pitiful gnats
yet i pity you not
foolish men
you don't know what i want
you care only for skin
curvature
rushing blood
hollow spaces waiting to be filled
you think one thing
and want only for it
should i deign to descend with kind regards
when you want to take from me
what is not yours
what i would not give you
walk on by through separation of time
not looking back
but paths, such tricky paths, they cross
goodbye at threshold of a train station bathroom
i wave as not to appear snobbish
though what would it matter among strangers
for you possess nothing but an image
of flesh over bone
goodbye indeed
goodbye childish liberty
goodbye freedom
the world has ways you can't escape
with nimble step
and spirit free
much like a child with arms outstretched like butterfly wings
meandering by a bubbling stream
but i am no child
my stream is of traffic
stalled not by rocks
but jutting lights
glowing emerald, garnet, ruby
i am alight in my own fancy
wrapped in a peace
that could slip away so easily
as if yanked by unseen hands
my eyes dart sidewards
for no reason but to steal of the world
to suck it into my glory
four eyes return my gaze
my world pulls away from me
as edges rush in
a sly "Hello" breaks in
and my voice echoes back
a lie
not truly greeting but cool dismissal
"Nice glasses. They look good on you.
And Gucci too."
"Thank you"
my reply laced with condescension
for men who think they can win you on a street corner
men who don't really see you
i care not for you
pitiful gnats
yet i pity you not
foolish men
you don't know what i want
you care only for skin
curvature
rushing blood
hollow spaces waiting to be filled
you think one thing
and want only for it
should i deign to descend with kind regards
when you want to take from me
what is not yours
what i would not give you
walk on by through separation of time
not looking back
but paths, such tricky paths, they cross
goodbye at threshold of a train station bathroom
i wave as not to appear snobbish
though what would it matter among strangers
for you possess nothing but an image
of flesh over bone
goodbye indeed
goodbye childish liberty
goodbye freedom
the world has ways you can't escape
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