Jun 072016
 

in spite of, or rather, in furtherance of, the castles that give so much yet relent the spite of our own fallacies, we give back to the waters we know to be full.  alas, the impoverished droughts of the desert can give no solace to the faceless crowds hoarding tiles like camels.

as the winds rise up and the storms rise, the silence is ghastly and pure.  the light is fierce.  the shadow tells the story of bright joy.  but the shadow is dark.  the shadow speaks in contrast knowing not how to portray such impossible glory.

but the shadow stays humble, stern in purpose, growing and glowing with the unknown delights of purity.  we see nothing.  we grasp and stumble and wilt before the undying powers that supersede our pitiable selves.  caught in motion, tumbling, tumbling.  towards and forwards.

 

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Jun 072016
 

unlike the virtuous luck of the prophets cascading down the serenading hills of yesteryear, the years of now are plenty and real with callous hands and distance.  like the sunbelt of orion with the light diffusing towards the lack that licks the nape of love, there is a calibrated stance that gives pleasant idolatry a desperate flame.

falling towards like the butterfly kissing realms unknown before you.  like the smile of the clouds with little to remove the words from the place.  the only difference is presence.  the absence digging in letting the chin know that unlike the past the present the future the now the now the now is now.  as time gallops towards the last lake, giving romance the tired tumble of promise.

i give.

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Apr 062016
 

the honest eye of virtue cascading down towards the bottom of rain that supersedes the myth of intrusion.  the poet in mind with hands like feet trembling down towards the rabbit hole with teeth of ivory and tusks of war.

delighting in so and so with the cowardly fear of the fox, feeling out towards the misty night without care and depth just like the sun.  or what.

the coffee drips slowly down towards the mountain where we wait for the moon to fall so the day can begin.  the smell so sweet and the anticipation warming the hearts of people as they sit.  on rocks.

the horizon is near, he said, without fear.  that’s impossible, he thought, with great fear.

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Mar 032016
 

like the staying air that broadsides the moon, in times of delight only forward do the sorrowful feet of fallen soldiers march towards infinity.

like pilots in the blinding black of night, these are the portly bellows of nature that dictate the ruin of our time.  delighting in the misery of outsiders howling towards sunshine like vultures.

keeping the time.  keeping the time.

 

 

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Feb 082016
 

I could not know here from there and I did not want to.  I had no choice but to proceed further, on as the light would say, on forward into the future, where cadences of conception are true and the light shines oh so brightly from the diffusing apex atop the sun.  The pure light resting there like love.

With coming fortune to bespeak a brutal indifference, valued disdain plagued my heart considerably.  Left aside the shelter with no storm to speak of, with no lighthouse, no shore, no rocks, no pebbles, no tide, no clouds, only the moon.

But with sincerest pity this moon shone bright.  This light – this moon’s  light would not forgive.  This moon’s light pursued my neck until the gaslights of the boulevards became more considerate than the eyes of youth.

On, I kept saying, on.

 

 

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Nov 292014
 

the glow.  fierce.  the tired eyes marching forward, the sky laughing back with glee.  only the fortunate ones.  only the fortunate ones.

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Jun 292014
 

the dialect transformed, like a rainbow in the sun, making the potions grow stronger than the forest winds can understand.  i only seek the truth he said, his head bowed down with mourning.  she awoke and looked at him saying more than she could remember, she was only a girl, not yet ready to speak the volumes of guilt that portrayed her hair in such a negative shade.

 

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May 272014
 

Like air in the world like mace in the eyes I wish to speak to Bartholomew and run right for the train.  I kiss all the dogs and wish that I wish not in vain. 

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