Dark Poetry Prose Poetry April 12, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

04-12-05 tuesday 10:21pm

such zealous charm in your carefully knit thoughts.

it's heard. readily. the gong going off as you wheeze with those much too ample divides. serrated questions tear as they slice.

it's yesterday, in all its lackluster premonitions. they all came true, but not in the least how you'd expected.

the dove's wings in your gaze alight to moments when gravity was most abundant. the earth would hold us there as we struggled to break free of its shackles.

but we're not birds. never have been. just keep wishing. and enyinng those that are.

there are no wings for these words. no feathers light. just the wind that antagonizes. shuffliing time as a deck of cards. wagering against the hand i hold.

i'm just counting the thumbtacks i've stepped on today. how many there are left to remove from my foot. and what i'll do about the ones i can't get out.

can i live with them. still walk like that. no blood to showcase, but so much pain to care for privately.

injuries that leave no stain. wounds that are so much narrower than the object that has created.

and the pieces i can't extract. what of them. wherein my bloodstream will they shout their name.

waking me up from my lazy slumber. in a dizzying array of conjecture.

wounded as i've ever been. it's never rmuch mattered.

i don't suppose it ever will.

04-12-05 tuesday 10:52pm

there coaxed by your taciturn gaze. communicated in your silence the dream from which i am unable to wake.

ear now toward. the waves will listen to your rotting heart. the salt will vanish any traces of weakness from your remains.

no need to wish for now. knowing wishes will surely turn on. no need to beg mystical entities for a life any different.

they're all the same in the end.

there injected softly by solitude's steathly syringe. not knowing what disease it carries. only knowing i don't care. i'm long since infected.

not looking for a cure. just catering to my symptoms. as garcefully they extract from me the tenderest of veins. the ripest of holes in.