25 August 2010


I feel sometimes
Like writing my own future
Igniting the candle
To rocket me to my next
Wild tale
An insinuation of delegation
A shrugging of responsibilities
To frolic and splash in the river
Ride white horse through
Valleys of wonder
Splendor all over
Invent new ways
To say I love you
To hold a body close
So hearts tremble together
A tenderness unfound anywhere
Else in this universe
Still, I consent to overture
And descent to my own melody
Because after all it’s tragedy
And apathy that seem to trend best.
Once painted, the corner stays wet
And I sit in it to watch the room
Crumble to dust.

I don’t want to write anymore.


Pamila Payne said...

You're amazing. That's a song, you know.

Cathy Olliffe-Webster said...

Pamila's right. You are amazing. Such imagery. Such untethered beauty.
My 'sigh' for the morning. Thanks.

Laura Eno said...

Wow...the floating up to the peak and then the swift fall down the other side. You evoke tremendous emotion here.

EC said...

Still, I consent to overture
And descent to my own melody
- that is a golden line; diverting to a less desirable path is dreadful, and we hope it will eventually lead us to what we seek.
Nicely put.

Chris 'Frog Queen' Davis said...

I agree...that is a song. An amazing song.