Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 11, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

07-11-05 10:15pm monday

the bow in your eyes ties at the center, but attaches not. the jasmine blooms in your touch as it sleeps within us. everything falling under the spell of memory and romance. wishes granted, yet quickly undone.

before it had even happened i knew everything i'd experience. just how i would feel. and exactly when it would abandon.

lost in the sun showers that pervade when the weather is mixed.

songs arrive to reminisce when least i'd expect. just press play and there you are caught in the past again.

do they remember. don't they. and what is the difference?

do they wish. like i did once. like i sometimes still must. and even if. how does that matter since. or ever after .

life laying at our feet. crippled and asking us to move it. or at least provide it some crutch.

and enable we do. because enable we must.

espcially when its weight exceeds that which we can carry

better to leave it lying there unable to rise than to try to pick up.

i can go on without it easier than i can drag it around behind me.

07-11-05 monday 11pm

take the end. tie it off. leave me hung there.

remember if you can. how once. the leaves grew and did not fall from. turning their colors right before our eyes. seasons changing without consequence.

because all seasons were ours.

turn me inside out. that the explosions should make me right again. and not disfigure. that the world could see inside. blood is blood. and skin is skin. and the gods they worhsip aren't listening.

that heaven is happiness where we are now. don't wait for. don't believe in what isn't going to come. find it in.

or else just let go.

a world full of people. overflowing. no salvation. only just those moments as they grant. whatever pieces of the wishes you've cast.

no noble deaths. only loss. because they die for the agendas of men who would never die for them. we're not saved. more lost than ever. their lives the expense of propaganda.

we mean nothing to either or. republican. democrat. any kind of leader. the world unfolds at our feet. in explosions.

and those who die. citizens or soldiers. they die in vain. because the process has failed us.

change only comes to those who admit something's wrong.

it waits in all of us. dormant fetus. eager to be born.

change echoes in the list of husbands, wives, borhters, sister gone.

the future remains constant until we urge it to be different.

not what you fear. not what you want. not the lies they tell you in news channels rife with.

not why they are, just how they can.

if they're so certain, let them die instead.