Content with haves and have notes
And tenuous things that may come or pass.
Stillness sitting, looks about
Amidst the mire of a path unkempt,
Bliss – gone – molt into a fairy fey.
The future – out there not here – serene.
The babe a distant seed of mind.
And the here and now? Genuinely
I love lightly but at least I love.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
I need to be
Consumed into a fire that burns
Like midnight and the heart that drips
In molten golden flesh like pores
Pulled apart from sinew of a life gone deep red.
I severed ties to deny
Loved ones of the watching
Dying days and pain.
And I in aloneness weep and
Courting childhood of paleness
Sweeping of my feet.
I don’t want to hurt in the light
Of day and dark of night that chills
The morning dawn of time.
No one helps me think and i am tired, weary, bone dead to the cold. fire in the belly, black bile.
And the walls gave in. Dress falling around ankle deep rills and I said fuck, just fuck it all and sat down in the mud to cry then I got up wiping tear stained cheeks and I beat the holy living hell outta jeebus.
And we, each and all, of simple things that please. Those things I used to love to plot, to plan, to do, gone now, set aside for a mind filled with electric dreams and too much shit to do.
Consumed into a fire that burns
Like midnight and the heart that drips
In molten golden flesh like pores
Pulled apart from sinew of a life gone deep red.
I severed ties to deny
Loved ones of the watching
Dying days and pain.
And I in aloneness weep and
Courting childhood of paleness
Sweeping of my feet.
I don’t want to hurt in the light
Of day and dark of night that chills
The morning dawn of time.
No one helps me think and i am tired, weary, bone dead to the cold. fire in the belly, black bile.
And the walls gave in. Dress falling around ankle deep rills and I said fuck, just fuck it all and sat down in the mud to cry then I got up wiping tear stained cheeks and I beat the holy living hell outta jeebus.
And we, each and all, of simple things that please. Those things I used to love to plot, to plan, to do, gone now, set aside for a mind filled with electric dreams and too much shit to do.
Sunday, April 11, 2004
Summer sun, the heart beats fast
As I breathe anticipation deeply.
The day passed quietly, oddly
In a dull haze of damp cold.
I in my mind and depth reside
Waiting for the lightness of being to call.
I am nothing and no one. The touch of skin cannot deny my faith in passion and desire, my unconditional love for one and need of this one. They are themselves and I am I, and I would not, could not change for all my breadth. It simply is in the quotient of being, a fact. No regrets of nothing, I move forward in the still haze that clings and claws, of shadows that ebb and flow, darkness mired in tears looming and pressure coursing. I accept what little light is shed but it is an addiction of taste and touch and feeling alive. And when this one passes, though I’ll keep for a while yet, will I be content to lay back and take care of myself as I was before this one came. As I had decided.
As I breathe anticipation deeply.
The day passed quietly, oddly
In a dull haze of damp cold.
I in my mind and depth reside
Waiting for the lightness of being to call.
I am nothing and no one. The touch of skin cannot deny my faith in passion and desire, my unconditional love for one and need of this one. They are themselves and I am I, and I would not, could not change for all my breadth. It simply is in the quotient of being, a fact. No regrets of nothing, I move forward in the still haze that clings and claws, of shadows that ebb and flow, darkness mired in tears looming and pressure coursing. I accept what little light is shed but it is an addiction of taste and touch and feeling alive. And when this one passes, though I’ll keep for a while yet, will I be content to lay back and take care of myself as I was before this one came. As I had decided.