Dark Poetry Prose Poetry January 29, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

01-29-05 saturday 9:49pm

cold quarter flipping in your throat. some hiccup of possibility. on which side it will land. heads or tails. you don't know.

a divergence. the sun a spear to pierce the darkness. still the same you welcome its defeat. as it sinks down below the length of your sight. buried under the weight of perspective.

people who used to talk so much. they rarely do anymore. people who once covered me like blankets. now i'm cold. naked.

i can't complain. i'm just noticing the changes.

head or tails. you choose. i don't really even want to win. so you take them both and we'll just pretend that circumstance is to blame for when it really isn't.

cold hours stacked in rows. rolled up for reimburement. the coinage of the years we've spent collecting in those piggy bank hearts we've yet to break open.

i'm not asking. not even making the suggestion. the words stumble down the stairs of my head looking for the kitchen. a drink or two to help them fall aslepp again.

to dream. and forget the world that's forgtoten them. to close your eyes and quietly slip into your vein the vaccine to this reality we've been infected with.

10:20pm 01-29-05 saturday

older than you've ever been before. everyday you are. every minute. it happens. the winter never ends in our hearts. the soul's sun never fully rises.

there's a bench at the edge of memory where you can stop. sit a while. drawn to it by your aching toes. and the need to reflect. know how far. how much farther yet.

i don't think i'm right. don't think i'm wrong. opinions spread like forest fires. burning down all that old growth.

and then we wait. eyes wide. for those new seeds to germinate.

trust in that feetile soil of our lives. that it will reproduce, will recreate all that foliage that defined the paths we would take.

there's never enough words to say. as many as you can grab of them. they fall far short of the actions you had meant to take.

there are certain moments that hang suspended. crude models of the solar system within. with big yellow suns. and planets to surround. on L shaped wires which all converge at the center.

there are times when you think you want to forget. but you opt to remember. because everything you are is lent to everything you've ver been.

like the waves in the ocean great that constantly recylcle themselves. there is nothing new. only the same tired one that keeps returning to you.