Dark Poetry Prose Poetry February 6, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

9:23pm sunday 02-06-05

tapering scars. hurt akin to weather. one moment drowning in. then hours later drought.

i wish that i had a story to tell. some poignant falsetto of emotion to iterate.

but nothing is all i know now. trying hopelessly to describe it in new ways. greater depth. for it is, the greatest depth there is. infinite, abysmal crater in the ground beneath my feet. that is the nothing outside myself.

and gravity urges me to submit. for all that nothing inside me somehow carries so much weight.

so that now the words i seek this moment are for why i've not fallen beneath its surface. lost to that endless expanse of woe. not just yet. but still near to it. hovering precariously above that hungry hole.

i don't believe in tragedy. in that sense that life gangs up on you. a victim in the truest sense. we choose. what we'll let ourselves want. need. miss. grieve. who will be allowed to hurt us. and often when and if.

circumstance will play its role. and fate, if so it must be called, will sometimes strike with an iron fist. but day to day. smile to tear. more often than not, we are the captains of these ships.

and all quotes and cliches aside again, i know in truth, life is the victim. not us.

02-06-05 11:23pm sunday

fine lines as they were. between.

nesting hearts await their eggs to hatch. renew the lives we've let lapse.

fine lines. to draw the outline with. the color will come after. let the shape find us. and soon enough the colors will become apparent.

or so the theory goes.

with boundless dreams and unbarbed hearts. all across the lilting plains of this otherwise ordinary life.

i think only that i listen too well. and speak not enough. because the chimneys breathe their smoke. but theere are no fires below.

maybe writing to oneself is the way that a soul seeks salvation. when no gods are there to answer those prayers. one must find another way. when no divine interventions threaten to change a life too barren, one must take it upon themselves to put the lid atop that cauldron. and let it stew for a while.

no need to believe in any sorts of magic. more than enough just to let the flame reduce all that liquid into something thicker.

it won't get any better. i know this. i only hope that it won't get worse.