In the darkest of trees, there are no shadows:
only absence.
But all hope is slight Christ,
,all Light part divine but dim and not whole
but never un.
I do not move but by Your movement
and all circles are my love almost,,,
but Glory is an endless-
a static swirl a crimson forest
paved into One/(th)f(ree)
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
Please and thank you,
so curtsy often
to the brown and gold
array arras errat error
and enter
politely,
for a new age-
is much less a new page
turned,
than old pages burned.
To think and dream is not the age we are,
but blatant blatancy
berates the timid temperance of tolerance
in such a brutal light
that tiptoes are required footwear
for all 6 companies that run
the treadmill of deeliteful light.
and it delights in light
and fruitless
useless
brooding
foolishness.
iamtalking of course
about the horse,
the dog,
the cat,
the viral virus of vermin
-
to break up our monotony,
all that is necessary is
to be willing
to shed the opinions of the mass
-ive ignorance
and think,
but more than most,
to breathe in compassion
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
One -
loose leaf clam
held hostage
by a lark,
left full by
harmless
spears
, a dark,
encased
in ribs and chewing
blood
like gum,
aground
of wicked
shrimp
left
dealing
lies to
deaf seals
and hurried
sand.
Oh, Wind of all 1,000 colors
broken to a prism
of loss
, that is life,
a bridge
, that is burns,
a free
reign ,
my King,
a conquering
kitten,
Three
Fires
undone to splinters
of a Wood worn
to waves
of glass, an endless Sea, Lion-lined bones set free.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 12:44 AM UTC
Calm clam
I command you
DANCE,
for all the world is shivering
and your foot
is a fire
a-tingle
with wood and
what some say sorcery
others say forgiveness
and Blood like mine
is far from wine,
but made for blanching
snow, - -
to fall
deep
-lee
into ropes,
oh stretching
cords wrapped deepened
from my lungs,
all my organs build a latch,
a gate, a sink,
a house,
a humble mansion
for a crumble-man:sinned
and
tor
che
d/// to spirits
of
a
liquor.
To build again a fire,
not flames,
but a W(Holy)
consumption,
"I am not dead yet", but once soon I will.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC
lots and lots of planes
have shoved the air
aside like leaves
or broken
many hearts with distance
but we are never hurt as much as we hurt ours
elves
and sothe magic is
in
healing,
not from battles
but
from
feeling
and the mind that tells the heart
what grandeur that it
lacks
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
It is
wonderfully vague
how I can
never not
be nothing
or even
stay the
same.
How we
all know
we are
but dying
is not
a fashion
yet.
And if
we change
from dying
to death
I think
I know
we live
again.
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
the terrors of losing are not the loss.
it is not from our hearts
but our lungs that break
when the you that was here
becomes the you that I fear.
it goes from presence
to .
(and the hardest thing
is knowing you still exist
when you are all that i miss)
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 4:22 AM UTC
Look, I'm not sure if we are something so important
but take heart against the grave,
He was always meant for this
and with the spine you hear Him crack
but the earth is only breaking
as the constellations gasp
and with all the breath in space-
you're the reason He's gone alone.
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 5:20 PM UTC
in all,
AMAGICDANCE
is all,
and we,
though lost,
long forever,
to pulse,
with them.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 2:01 AM UTC
I do not feel you in my heart-
that which drums on endlessly
and dull, devoid of most art,
struggling in spineless pulse
to find hemo-globe and not a hearse.
Sometimes I do not even feel my chest
hurtling blood into my veins
though I'm sure it rushes, while I rest,
at near hundred miles a minute-
No, i do not feel you pound in my heart.
I only feel you in my lungs,
breathing steadily through my nose
or heavy by my tongue-
you rush through my neck,
you rise and fall in all my bronchi--
and soft you travel in my body.
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 2:44 AM UTC