Seething teeth
Gather bullets
For a feast of
Eloquence
Blathering on about this
Commenting on that
There is always someone
I never want to talk to
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:36 AM UTC
A quality in frost
that bites a sun-
drenched landscape
brings movement
about a body
causing reaching
hands to shake.
Toward an object with peace
inside a glass coffer.
It's pith displaying
A delicacy thats offered.
With a tension to shatter
what is tenuous to touch,
illuminating
one thousand more reasons
for trembling hands
to clutch.
As memories errupt into flames
Burning in a torrent of grace
The fire carries away
the glass coffer case
Inhaling short gasps of air
breath stolen by the flame
crawling along the carpet
the ash case sustains,
a sensation of annihilation
creeping into fate
Of becoming self-aware
In a glass coffer case
"Prey for eyes"
Soon the sun will shed
and give way to the night
Where frozen in position
A new glass coffer
will collapse and arise
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 1:57 AM UTC
How could a human
So desperate for love
Stay in a love
That will destroy her
Love does not ******
Love feels
As one flows
into the other
She is at the helm
Committed to death
When love unmasks ******
That has suicide
As a result
death has,
nothing to destroy
in her but passion
body being vessel
Giving into love
Soul acquiesces into dust
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 6:08 PM UTC