Dark Poetry Prose Poetry December 31, 2004 Dark Poetic Prose

12-31-04 12:45pm Friday

fabian bethels on canterbury fields.

final night for wishing on the stars of this trip round the sun.

the next so hungry at its heels.

and all the things we have found or lost in it, otherwise relinquished to the bowels of the coming one.

12-31-04 9:10pm friday

perpendicular to the axiom that love dies. that its mortality is as evident as our own. is the notion that it never does. some god that oversees the soul.

the paradigm of happiness is to believe this.

caught now in the turning of the leaf. from green to red. as slowly it unhooks itself from the tree. i'm only the wind that nudges it. the gravity that tugs. but that is all the diffference between hanging on and letting go of.

swollen with churning hours. as they dwindle. last moments to be who am now. always. this brutal repetition.

one year gives birth to next. in an endless proceation of the living experience.

this brutal repetition. this anguished parade of tailored hearts. fitting and refitting themselves to fit what it is they think they want.

one more year to stow away in the closet of our discontent. one more that left us just the same as it entered. hollow cavities being filled with moments that inevitably perish.

death burgeoning from deep within. year after year grooming it.

you feel it bursting open like a bright flower under your skin. you see the color. smell the sweet scent. but the blossom won't fully open. not just yet.

one more year of having waited for. another one at your doorstep.

and nothing changes anymore.

12-31-04 10:57pm friday

goodbye tomorrow. hello today.

slitting time like wrists. watching the life drain out of all these years we have lived.

it's changing now. but then it always is.

no need for milestones to remind us of how different.

to every life there is a soundtrack. the music that asks what the listener cannot.

to every life there is a moment had. that. you know, that one that steals the sense form all the others come before it.

the more i think about it, it's over. gone.

white squall on the ocean deep. chasing every wave. drowning in the dream.

gone again. as all people tend to be. lost now to the simple act of feeling.

i woke up and thought that this isn't someone i can be. and i was wrong, unfortunately.

i woke up and rememebred what had passed between. and i wondered if any part of it would make it passed the boundaries that night had set.

goodbye to this year. hello to the next.

it changes right befoe our eyes. but we're so sledom changed by it.

and i want to be. but those moments are so limited.

i want to know. but it's so hard when.

everything you've ever loved leaves you with only graves to tend.

every new year offers redemption. like a cloud waiting to rain it gathers about your sun.

every time it changes it never does.

the more you need it to the less it listens.

the greater grows the mountian the fainter your footprints become.