Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 19, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

08-19-04 thursday 9pm

life's pages are not numbered. you can read them in any order you choose. they are not bound to any hard cover. they are as naked as a manuscript unpublished. they can be shuffled and rearranged in any order you see fit.

you can edit. if you wish. well, you can add as much as you like, but you can't remove any of it.

08-19-04 thursday 9:15pm

the streetlights forgot to shine. the cars didn't know where to park. so everything just lay there motionless. everything lay paused except the dark.

and is it any wonder that this is how far i've gone. from nothing to everything and then back again. different chorus for the same old song.

magic eight ball answers for all of life's biggest questions. it's too obvious. the charms of breathing are long gone. the appeal of pleasure is naught.

it's fine if, well, no, it really isn't at all.

it's a long walk from where i am back to where i've been. and i don't want to go there again, but i don't know what other choice i have. it's a shaky bridge that connects the heart to the head. i've crossed it often, but i'm not sure it will hold my weight for another passage.

i never left. always just faded by request. i never really have seen the sun rise. but i know that it must. because i've watched it set so many times.

08-19-04 thursday 9:57pm

flower petals fall like rain in deserts. all that they give is quickly expended. flowers are what we could've been. to bloom such bright colors from a pale stalk. to die safe in the knowledge that we're soon to be born again.

the silence is true. and the darkness so sure. even when you have nothing to lose there are still deficits to be forged.

a honeybee at the edge of the stamen. poised like soft tears right before the realization. to collect what it contains. to spread it further still. propagate the lie until the world is filled.

i thought i was listening, but then i noticed i could no longer hear. the morning broke open in a bloody expanse, but nothing was borne of it other than a long dead fetus.

if it was anything that will be retained. or even if it was nothing to you, my heart beats not the same. if it was nothing. if it was just. i didn't care then. and don't care now. it was what it was. and this is what we are now.