Dark Poetry Prose Poetry August 28, 2005 Dark Poetic Prose

08-28-05 1pm sunday

deliberate goodbyes pale the
yolk of stern hearts;
what was never real as i
touched, made venomous now
by its sudden depart.

08-28-05 sunday 3:47pm

yield me. i am soft. tar roof as the sun beats down on. yielding unto the pressure of even the most gentle touch. and soon solifying the impression as the coldness sitffens me anew.

souveniers for sharp-shooting hearts. burst balloons and stuffed teddy bears. saltwater wringing your nostrils and the wind in our ears. walking on that brittle wood and that shifting sand. coaxed toward the roar of the ocean as it ceaselessly tugs at.

lay us down there and let us be. part of the water as it dances with the moon. not forever like they do. but just long enough that it will go with us after we leave.

08-28-05 sunday 10:12pm

tremor none in this feeble state. withering demure.in the flaunting maelstrom of an open ribcage. with burnished swagger to abide the pallid luster excreted by dying parasites under the skin.

come close enough to hear the whisper, but touch not the lips which sepak it.

feather the wings, but don't dare try to engage them in their flight.

close yes, but closer still in our distance.

broken sermons in the pulpits of barren lives. sing the choir, but do not listen. sometimes our greatest truth is our biggest lie.

08-28-05 sunday 11:30pm

oh how much that reason is what you make of it. dull spear point trying to pierce your side.

how what we are is forever what we shall become. maps running in circles, never realizing.

the destination is not that far from the starting point.

the road is not your enemy. it is your guide.

too old to love. too young to forget how it felt when. temptations arise and i am inclined to let them tempt.

we'll touch and then it will al become clear. or so it is imagined.

we'll touch and at last we'll know how much we want.

but feeling has a funny way of expressing its motives. and love has never loved anyone other than itself.