Atmosphere of gold,
the sunset is a cover
hiding guilty blue.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Outside the Inside
I met a boy who did as he pleased:
Saw a forest ahead and fell to his knees,
Oh soft ground bring comfort away from these lees
In swift scattered pleasures, so fell the trees.
He crawled through the saw dust back to the dirt,
A broken rib crying, refusing to hurt,
Bled him a lullaby straight though his shirt
And on to the ground where death does its work.
Layers of gravel, minerals and dust,
Dark and damaged, the worlds hidden crust
An insect seen in hope, disposing of trust,
Below and forgotten clawing what it must...
Scratching the sands far from a pearl,
Slipping on ice as the heat starts to swirl.
Air burns and creates an omnipotent girl,
Boy: sitting terrified, center of the world.
Saw a forest ahead and fell to his knees,
Oh soft ground bring comfort away from these lees
In swift scattered pleasures, so fell the trees.
He crawled through the saw dust back to the dirt,
A broken rib crying, refusing to hurt,
Bled him a lullaby straight though his shirt
And on to the ground where death does its work.
Layers of gravel, minerals and dust,
Dark and damaged, the worlds hidden crust
An insect seen in hope, disposing of trust,
Below and forgotten clawing what it must...
Scratching the sands far from a pearl,
Slipping on ice as the heat starts to swirl.
Air burns and creates an omnipotent girl,
Boy: sitting terrified, center of the world.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
On The Line
Solace disappeared on a cold kitchen floor
Night throwing colours never seen before.
Objects of regret hanging damp clothes line.
The owl watching us wake in good time
With some apologies arriving from early to late,
Playing witness to what bones could not shake.
Time is immeasurable and heat will fade
Determined through memories of a tar lung facade,
Forgive the fool that was labeled insane,
Let him follow patterns left by the rain.
I heard you're not ready to leave town just yet.
Maybe tomorrow when the sun spits out regret.
Night throwing colours never seen before.
Objects of regret hanging damp clothes line.
The owl watching us wake in good time
With some apologies arriving from early to late,
Playing witness to what bones could not shake.
Time is immeasurable and heat will fade
Determined through memories of a tar lung facade,
Forgive the fool that was labeled insane,
Let him follow patterns left by the rain.
I heard you're not ready to leave town just yet.
Maybe tomorrow when the sun spits out regret.
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