tickmy. my. little black dot, little black dot. dog looks at tick, tick puncturestick
skin. the dog just stares, quizzically, enduring the pain. a minute demon i see,
or is it just hungry, thirsty? is it blood or is it water? am i dehydrating or
am i melting away? let me know, scratch and swat. attack.
don't you wish you had a pair of nice, shiny wings? don't you wish you were a
fly? but if i swat and miss, i smack myself instead.
my candy children, my lollipop. but somewhere a homeless man nibbles on moldy
bread. and a mouse nibbles tainted bait. and a tick sips of a moist bitter, &n
bridge..."to find a place to be, construct a bridge to there."bridge
winter melts into spring melts into summer melts into autumn then again. bridges of karma span great gaps of time then spill you out into the end of your life. so where did it all go? where did it all go? trees sprout and blossom, flower and then they all die and fall away. mice venture into the darkness then skitter away in fear. so why did they come so near? why did they come so near?
drink the nectar, sip the sweat, swallow the
CHASM I.CHASM
rise, children! blankets up in a salute of the inviting night sky! thumbs in mouths! now suck! suck harder! all eyes - stay open! ignore the stinging of the drifting dust! squelch the pain! all eyes stay open! to watch the stars! to watch the dark gaps in
between them! all eyes stay open to shed tears!
rise children! out of bed! flock to the fields! bring the teddies! bring
artifactsburied.artifacts
I. - Archaeologist
Digging. And digging.
I dig to escape the heat of a burning relentless sun
I find broken shards of useless pretty things I unearth crypts filled
with the only people I really know, all dead a thousand years and more, who spoke tongues as equally forgotten.
I dig under a cold moonlight into the darkening soi
LostYour slouch says it all and the way you wear your hat in your hands like something condemned or a color you cannot remember. Words cannot chase you here or follow in the footsteps of people whose faces vanish like sad lies and pictures torn from wallets; and sounds will not echo or move through your sleep of tears in blind comfort, or a song that bleeds your name across the pillows and leaves you falling like dreams that slipped through winter...Lost
white
Distracted
I'm pleased you liked "The Clouds" Experiment [link]
Many thanks for your
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
--
"You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."
--
I've cut my heart out, so you can catch a glimpse of my RawEm0tion
I can't brain today; I have the dumb.
--
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
Much appreciated.
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
--
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
--
Pereant, inquit, qui ante nos nostra dixerant.
All things considered, insanity seems to be the best alternative.
--
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy that sustains him through temporary bouts of joy.
Thanks very much for the
--
There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
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