Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 27, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

08-27-05 saturday 12pm

fevers displaced by ice.
frigid champions assume the pose of surrender.
defeated not by external forces,
but rather by the composition of their motives.

8-27-05 saturday 9:47pm

no. we can't talk. we never could.

just furtive glances. writing on damp pages. where all the ink runs together.

no. i've never said. never have. anything.

i am no one you would know. though all your lives you assume you have.

08-27-05 saturday 11:20pm

opening the darkness. threshold parting to accomodate. ugly. ugly hours fixating on from where they came.

tumbling as hours do. every footstep begging you to fall until at last. the blanket unravels and the shivers consume.

what was left of. whatever existed in. rose petals choked from their stems. whispers of dying men.

touching as only skin would allow. stifled thoughts give in. until there is nothing left to want.

unrepentant. unabsolved.

puddles that the rain makes as it falls. filling in the footprints we made as we walked.

8-27-05 11:29pm saturday

he didn't say anything. seldom was inclined toward such.

the spaces they would amble on in their assruance that we could overcome.

funny how they kept expecting, though we never did.

he talk. as any person would. of himself. and his posessions. half-hearted. because what he possessed was virtually nothing.

and i'd listen. as i'm given to. wanting to, but never asking the question which would arise.

he'd always say nothing in more words than anyone could. and i'd wonder. wonder why he'd beat himself like that. and how the overseer and the slave could be the same person.

he'd say, but never meant. and so, eventually, i grew tired of.

he'd try, but never really attempt to be more than a stranger.

and there i lay awash in every reason i ever had to love him. but without any to think he ever would.

and there he stood needing what i had to give.

and myself unwilling. refusing to become someone who'd give so much to get nothing.

all we are is all we've ever been. cold curtain you've drawn. years you've let expire. until there was nothing left.

there never was anything to say. not then. certainly not now.

i'm just a brid in a cage pecking at the latch.

i'm just shadow cast when you stand. the sun on your back.

we won't ever change. ourselves. eachoher. or anything.

we'll just waste our lives wondering why or how it coudl'=n't have been different.

never realizzing that it always was. could be have only seen it.