sidewalks fade from my memory as the moss grows deep on thick limbs I fail to name on purpose
cities rust beneath the bloody ruin of this blanket of skies we used to call blue
clocks tick, sci-fi novels come true, mind-matter pulses dictate which way we steer
by those things we used to think were stars but now have realized are merely lamps on the riverside
shadows play cruel tricks on our hearts
hands masking movements molded to seem malevolent
I buy poetry on ebay and hope for miracles that will never come
like my inept, sterile muse incapable of love
buried under the dust mother never swept up, up to that stratosphere scientists claimed was failing but really wasn't
but we were too tired to argue with fate and her crystal ball
the tele-screen tells us that time is of the utmost essence but we know that seconds are no more real than this feeling of powerlessness before the storm
the credits roll
we root around in place
seeking something we were born with but lost
smoke in an alleyway
you do not know what your soul yearns for
cities rust beneath the bloody ruin of this blanket of skies we used to call blue
clocks tick, sci-fi novels come true, mind-matter pulses dictate which way we steer
by those things we used to think were stars but now have realized are merely lamps on the riverside
shadows play cruel tricks on our hearts
hands masking movements molded to seem malevolent
I buy poetry on ebay and hope for miracles that will never come
like my inept, sterile muse incapable of love
buried under the dust mother never swept up, up to that stratosphere scientists claimed was failing but really wasn't
but we were too tired to argue with fate and her crystal ball
the tele-screen tells us that time is of the utmost essence but we know that seconds are no more real than this feeling of powerlessness before the storm
the credits roll
we root around in place
seeking something we were born with but lost
smoke in an alleyway
you do not know what your soul yearns for
posted by sky at 12:58:00 AM
3 Comments:
There are days that I thank god and the span of the universe for the lamps along the river. I have barked my shins and bloodied my chin on so many darkened roads and broken paths on nights where even the stars had forsaken me. The lights on the banks bring shadows to contend with, but light my walk for a while, and the shadows are what my mind makes them.
very moving words, as always sky. It will be really good to see you and the other book-lovers crossing the mountains.
see you soon,
amy
that stagnacy can grow
leach you low and submerge your soul
we are sunbreaking
the seeds open
broadcasting laughter
on fecundity's platform
warm me ripe
and soar severance asunder
we can plunder
our regrets later
There are days when lights are atrocious, when shadows insult and I have nothing better to do than curse them both. I feel a bit like Lucy, cursing the darkness even though it gets you no where.
"Stupid darkness!"
But then I have to laugh at myself and the whole silly world, and curse it.
Rob
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