The fog has permenantly frosted the window pane-
my fingers tracing, communicating nothing,
I leave perpetual markings--eternal
my love for you dearest one,
troubled, forbidden, bedeviling--you.
precious hieroglyphics for future generations
to ponder--were we a society obsessed with
nothing but each other, with love,
with ourselves?
We are only star-gazers
We only reach for the stars
too
far
away.
My fist breaks through the glass--
shattering the barricade between
me, and sweet, dark air.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
-
motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
-
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
-
and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
-
secret fancies don't really bother me, alright? but know that once you tell me I become either like a turtle and snap my smile...
-
A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
-
July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
-
I was just awarded the Perfect Poet Award from Promising Poet's Cafe/Jingle Poetry. I'm excited, I want to nominate everybody but I...
-
two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
No comments:
Post a Comment