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Dec 2009
Once one opens their mind...

So many endless ideas encircle and fly.
These thoughts are vultures in the sky...
Pure lust for poetry and prose...
landing heavy on the nose...
picking on the bones...
of the dead...
'til they're dry...

I dont even have to try.

From the start its been a cartoon.
This...heart's been grazed by afew harpoons.
"Im bleeding" hung in quotations.
These ******' words flow so fluently from my foundation.
Reciting these writings that fall from my rib cage...
Almost 40 and still dont know how to act my age.

Frontal lobe speaks animation to the rest of my brain...
Secret whispers to myself.

Open up, say "Mind"...

My many meanings become less tranquil with time.
Times forgotten fortitude forged these strait lines.
This steel structure sunk securely in solid sediment...
This blood blotted into letters is all I represent.

This head of mine, this mind...stays deep in the mines.
Badly broken and bent on this dangerous descent.
Matt Jursin
Written by
Matt Jursin  37/M/Colorado
(37/M/Colorado)   
473
 
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