***
I-Goddess (No Year) sitting in the corner,
slack-eyed and wondering,
always star-gazed and brilliant,
the child of me cowers,
shivers in the cold fear
of the world,
the day,
the breath of morning on my neck
and when i dare look up,
when I peak from my fingers
toward the monster-air around me,
the shakes of life convulse me,
tackle me dumb-founded,
slipping me some drug I can't name...
but the high of the ultimate low
is my thrill,
forever being below the plebian minds
thinking they know so much about me
and my life...
so when I stand up to shout,
to screech the defiance in me,
they are left with a feeling of wide-eyed amazement...
"look at her,
all strong like she's a goddess,
who does she think SHE is?"
August 18, 2005
there is magic in the sounds that pull me apart, and into tiny pieces
i feel myself scattered into the wind, and drifting up into the sky
i settle with the stars in the sounds above the earth, and i look down
upon a world of shadows and reflections of light, i see it all connected
below the toes and above the eyes that fail to notice, the simple design
of everything that i feel in and out of my skin, the sounds provoke most
the uncontrollable desire to embrace the stars, and the blackness
in between the light, stretching further the ever-consuming passion
for the comfortable warmth of the sun, and the calm chill at night
when the magic in the sounds pulls me apart and into tiny pieces.
there is magic in the sounds that pull me apart, and into tiny pieces
i feel myself scattered into the wind, and drifting up into the sky
i settle with the stars in the sounds above the earth, and i look down
upon a world of shadows and reflections of light, i see it all connected
below the toes and above the eyes that fail to notice, the simple design
of everything that i feel in and out of my skin, the sounds provoke most
the uncontrollable desire to embrace the stars, and the blackness
in between the light, stretching further the ever-consuming passion
for the comfortable warmth of the sun, and the calm chill at night
when the magic in the sounds pulls me apart and into tiny pieces.
Parallel (No Year)
much time is wasted in thoughts
of that and the other, but
this is all we have, this
is all we can ever think of,
just all of this,
a second’s tick of the clock and a
dream of waking life,
and wanting for nothing of
death and horror, and pain; however,
is always unavoidable,
but the hands keep clicking forward,
a snap away from the darkness towards
new sight, in moments of thought,
dawn the light.
much time is wasted in thoughts
of that and the other, but
this is all we have, this
is all we can ever think of,
just all of this,
a second’s tick of the clock and a
dream of waking life,
and wanting for nothing of
death and horror, and pain; however,
is always unavoidable,
but the hands keep clicking forward,
a snap away from the darkness towards
new sight, in moments of thought,
dawn the light.
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