we stood still waiting
)sometimes honest men
lie( where bleached
bones lay was a story.
And in perfectly disastrous
moments a beautiful butterfly
floats.
:: 10-10-2017 ::
we stood still waiting
)sometimes honest men
lie( where bleached
bones lay was a story.
And in perfectly disastrous
moments a beautiful butterfly
floats.
:: 10-10-2017 ::
i heard the drops of rain
falling upon my brain.
the hearing was different
than its feeling;
my thin arms too
felt preternatural
as frogs and fish began
to fill the courtyard.
i imagined smelling memories
of folly idleness;
the thinking was deeper
than the doings.
most eyes closed
with shuttered sight
tomorrow my prophecy
of a better light.
tonight i sleep awake
and tomorrow awake
sleeping for another
moment of delicious
sight.
speaks the poet
within my heart.
:: 10-10-2017 ::
my emotions are prisoner
to fear of release.
i have seen love explode
: remnants of supernovae
and my one remaining fear:
i shall not have love again.
And then once i too walked
with love but was then
a shadow; then now i walk
along the rolling hills
hearing mocking shadows
knowing how much i took
this seed within my heart
with passion and color
grew; became a flower
that made good upon grace;
that love watered my roots
until the sun withered it
Which took everything
alas but my fear that
i shall not have love
again.
:: 10-10-2017 ::