Dark Poetry Prose Poetry May 30, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

05-30-05 monday 8:55pm

the more time you spend in the dark, the less dark it seems. eyes adjust. heart blooms like jasmine does.

let all those others worship their sun. their light as it were. so that i might command the stage all to myself as the night combusts.

better by myself than caught in the throngs. but to coach that other sight than simply to see.

sober in that i never stop thinking.

homeless because nowhere suits me.

these four walls just the cocoon in which i sleep. transforming. from larva to pupa. from partial to complete.

metamorphosis is something everyone goes through. some do it out in the open. others neatly enclosed.

some cocoons open up. others never do.

05-30-05 monday 9:55pm

the hollow to which you aspire. even if you should achieve your place there. it wouldn't acknoweledge your presense. you'd only end up another small portion of the gaping (w)hole.

you'll miss yourself when you're gone. you'll mourn yourself when you're dead.

but it's almost as if, alive, you possess no ability to choose your own direction.

steered by the prevailing wind. an unmanned ship. full of ghosts, but nothing living.

intimate with the waves, but not likely to impress them.

entranced by the movement of the ocean, yet sickened by it.

furtive glances do nothing except antagonize my waning patience. and belittle what little sense of loyalty i'd had left.

make a choice. and stand by it. overwhelm me. either way. with rapture or discord. i don't care which. just choose an emotion and wear it.

naked's all right, but empty isn't.

in what tomorrow do you see yourself in. the blank white of winter's barren. lone tree overseeing dying forest.

or spring. everything being born again.

one glance might catch my attention. but it won't hold it.