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Saturday, August 31, 2013

Silent Truths

It's not often that the night time finds me here, an observer of the obvious, full of obtuse absurdities
along the road, the differences shine
minutia in the moonlight
how stifled it feels
here in my box of silence
the box of indecision
of decisions preemptively made
silent words
spoken only yesterday
signposts to the truth
a truth which may never be revealed.

Silent Truths

It's not often that the night time finds me here, an observer of the obvious, full of obtuse absurdities
along the road, the differences shine
minutia in the moonlight
how stifled it feels
here in my box of silence
the box of indecision
of decisions preemptively made
silent words
spoken only yesterday
signposts to the truth
a truth which may never be revealed.

Power

The power is in her hand
she gasps as she grasps at the pain.

Her palm bleeds
yet she cannot let go.

Who holds the power?
An illusion of the obvious.

A vice tightening
her breath relinquished
her fate sealed.

A gentle kiss from her lovers death.

In the distance the call of a better day
and oft in the distance simplicity looms unaware

In her hand she holds the key
unlocking the pains of withdrawl
she shudders, when happiness nears
for tomorrow, tomorrow she'll pay

She cannot say no, she dare not say yes

She grasps with her hand the thorn, the illusory power within
and tries to let go
but cannot.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Life, As She Dances

Roxie, mature young lady with a baby heart
laughing as the popcorn falls, like Niagara
Springing curls, bouncing step, curiosity
Speak with the tongue
elder than thy lisping lilting toddlers heart
dancing through the kitchen.
I miss you as you grow.