Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 10, 2003 Dark Poetic Prose

01-10-03 friday 9pm brick NJ

a flicker of humanity in the dying embers of a life. a song without a melody cries out for its rhyme. but the darkest portals of living all exist within our minds. the heart beats backwards toward the end. healing toward broken. dying toward life and then you awaken. back in the same flesh. trapped within that same chorus that keeps repeating. you stop singing, but it goes on. you refuse to listen, but nevertheless.

in the ripe places of love and lust feelings quench themselves and thoughts have no purpose. in the vineyards where the wines of passion are grown, hearts imbibe freely as if a life outside of the love did not exist. as if nothing else could matter if i could just hold you now. if only it could be so.

call me foolish. call me a hopeless poet only in love with that next verse. maybe so. maybe that's all i am. just a shadow obsessing over the light it can never touch. but it doesn't matter. what i am. what i might be. it doesn't matter. this is real. this won't end when the sonnets do. this is forever.

i'm too old to wish upon a star. too young to die yet. or so they tell me. i'm too lost to ever be found. but somehow we ended up in the same dream. there are a million words before and a million that might come after. there never was a now for us. just a past and an after. the act of seems to have escaped us. i'm not asking for reasons. i'm not seeking reconciliation. i'm just writing as i always have. one reasons flows into the next so eloquent and splendid. like a sunset to a moonrise you can scarcely tell it's happened. you're the reason right now. you're the love that confounds. too old now to forget. too young not to remember. i'll write as i always have. i'll write because you give me a reason. there have been reasons before you. but there has never been a better reason to.