Dark Poetry Prose Poetry July 19, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

07-19-04 monday 9:15pm

salient blooms of thoughts. rockets shoot from my heart. patent these nights. they ought never to be recreated. copyright this pain, so that it can never be reiterated. if only.

knotted rhymes in dreadlocks tie. slender strands of feeling woven into thick braids. shall i question myself again. feeding on lukewarm temptations for lack of anything better to taste.

waiting has forgotten. and sorrow all that remains. that stiffening sense of loss as you look down into a pending grave.

ratify these nights with experience's so many ragged signatures. pass the laws. tease the politics. stand at your podium and filibust your life.

i'll never win. i never really wanted to. just always thought there was somewhere between winning and losing that i might be able to find. but i guess that just isn't true.

how else. how else can i know. if i'm alive or if i've only survived. count the blinks until these eyes forget. try to see not just what is there, but also what is hidden.

what to choose. when choosing just won't choose you. what to ask now that all's been denied. what to give now that i know i'm giving only for the pleasure in it.

give the same. or so much as this human heart can let. give just the same. regardless. and love evenso. love until i've no choice but to forget.

what do i choose. i choose nothing. what do i seek. just to know. to know that they knew.

9:33pm 07-19-04 monday

hourglass lives. watch the sand. count each tiny the granule as it trickles down toward the end. from one something to the next. such a metaphor for everything that ever happens. to anyone who has ever lived.

are we the whole. the collection of them. or just one amongst. are we the a second of a minute. or even less.

read me then. read me still. like footsteps on dark beaches. you can feel, but can't see them. they make no sound, but leave such deep indents. until. until the ocean chooses to erase them.

and on we walk further yet. beckoned by the moon and stars above. with fallen arches and aching toes. must ignore the temptation to rest. knowing there's still so much further to go.

07-19-04 monday 11:06pm

i'll see you when i see you. and if that's never, well then. oh well. so much the better then.

wouldn't it be so true to know that the end beat us. wouldn't it just be so fitting to have to let it go before we'd ever had a grip.

roses don't care. thorns don't seek. it's just. these veins always want to bleed. like needles. like needles on the edge of release.

i touch the night. touch it with the tip of a pen and wonder have i made a mark. have i made anything lasting.

i remember. i do remember those so called firends. what they once were. what we're left with. and i try to calculate. i know how to multiply. how to divide. but i don't. what i never have. are the variables. the imaginary x's. i could figure them out. i could do the algebra. but why. why even try when they always result in negatives.

i gave them, but that was my choice. i knew all along i'd not get it back again. i gave, not caring for how much i'd receive. guess that was my first mistake. and thinking that it mattered was my second.

it ought to be easy now. nothing to lose. nothing i hope to gain anymore. it ought to be easy to let. it should i guess, but it's not that simple. the layers unravel and i get lost in their depths.

so now with the silence left as my only friend, i wonder if. if i'll ever understand. if i'll ever find the courgae. to be more than this life could let. to forget what they promised unreal. and at last show them. show them how i never really believed their pretense. how it didn't matter anyway. i was already dead.