Last days of no connection
other than immediate presence
No obligations other than Right Now
Our days and nights
are lumped into clusters
of lights and darks
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Roads like Pythons, Water like Ice
on four wheels with our senses dulled,
we leave the place where the rocks
are as smooth as porcelain skin
and the water breaks our high
jumps from rock to rock,
praying to make the leap.
too fast on roads too narrow
at least one of us knows where we're going
some sing along
some sleep it off
where to now?
but this is all I ever want
we leave the place where the rocks
are as smooth as porcelain skin
and the water breaks our high
jumps from rock to rock,
praying to make the leap.
too fast on roads too narrow
at least one of us knows where we're going
some sing along
some sleep it off
where to now?
but this is all I ever want
Disruption
you are a grotesque mandala,
a cycle, endless and reliable,
a perverted version of what
is to be calm and
meditative.
A Utilization of Resources
with heavy hands
heavy hearts
shaded eyes
we sleep
through the winding hours.
pass
pass
pass
forget your troubles, friend of mine.
our new rituals,
spiritual in a blinded sense,
guide us to a center.
a muse, a tool
to bring us into the ether.
breathe deep; live now and forever, dear friend,
in the celestial ambiance of
what is and what was to
bring it to whatever we may be now.
we open our palms, accepting sight into the fluidity of
the motions of our existence.
i dive with the ghosts of my troubles
into the pools of the collective
and sleep
under the canopy of
disarray and disillusion.
we follow the breadcrumbs of
tangents full of tired rhetoric and
reminders of real world happenings,
with the collective's cautious advice at
our backs.
with a tired soul,
an empty mind,
and light less eyes
I sleep.
heavy hearts
shaded eyes
we sleep
through the winding hours.
pass
pass
pass
forget your troubles, friend of mine.
our new rituals,
spiritual in a blinded sense,
guide us to a center.
a muse, a tool
to bring us into the ether.
breathe deep; live now and forever, dear friend,
in the celestial ambiance of
what is and what was to
bring it to whatever we may be now.
we open our palms, accepting sight into the fluidity of
the motions of our existence.
i dive with the ghosts of my troubles
into the pools of the collective
and sleep
under the canopy of
disarray and disillusion.
we follow the breadcrumbs of
tangents full of tired rhetoric and
reminders of real world happenings,
with the collective's cautious advice at
our backs.
with a tired soul,
an empty mind,
and light less eyes
I sleep.
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