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SoulSurvivorPoems
In pace with our various disciplines We walk over cracking tile Pretending it is just more ice... Black bees angle for the sharp taste Of esoteric flowers, their honey Pungent... As the smell of midnight Reading from borrowers Their books bought And paid for I make my Own Analysis And look no longer For my forgotten Dream. Solaces from memory of things Done badly, the light pierces Down... silver light laces The green. The heart repairs itself And then is fractured Once again. .. By looking Too long At the Moon. Towers of stone grow over living flesh But then disolve in rot... Never to mark its passing . . . Soul Survivor 2002
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Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
black bees...
In pace with our various disciplines We walk over cracking tile Pretending it is just more ice... Black bees angle for the sharp taste Of esoteric flowers, their honey Pungent... As the smell of midnight Reading from borrowers Their books bought And paid for I make my Own Analysis And look no longer For my forgotten Dream. Solaces from memory of things Done badly, the light pierces Down... silver light laces The green. The heart repairs itself And then is fractured Once again. .. By looking Too long At the Moon. Towers of stone grow over living flesh But then disolve in rot... Never to mark its passing . . . Soul Survivor 2002
O wrote this years ago in an Exercise of free form Random thought Poetry
SoulSurvivor
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SoulSurvivor
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
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