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Open Poetry #29

the dream

pandonov
Member

since 2003-10-03

Posts 478
b/w conscience and insolence

0 posted 2003-10-20 12:15 PM

my closed eyes,
i write without words
swooned beyond the
extension to my repel.

the filthy pen, i
drag with my numbness
the reflection of frittered paper,
the look of I.
broken to my lying self,
i adore resentful silence,
for i carried  her resurrection.
tremble in cageless inactivity,
the play of imagery,
upon my starving mind,
the lighter darkness, i
didn’t know exist,
the I which is a distance…
i witness the creation of a child,
and the death of one,
scattered upon my
wickedness, and
i laugh,
leaping through  pieces.
the god(s) i pass,
the molded human being(s)
raised to a status
of stone temple. they like others are dead,
brushed away by life-span of man,
calmed by mortality,
the stone of glass.

and yet i’m timeless wrapped in time,
cinder in flameless tedium,
an i cut from I.

the_loner_23
Member Ascendant

since 2002-06-08

Posts 5479
Jacksonville, Florida, USA

1 posted 2003-10-20 12:17 PM

Very interesting read but I loved it.

Cold hands means a warm heart

Kaoru

Member Elite

since 2003-06-07

Posts 3892
where the wild flowers grow

2 posted 2003-10-20 02:36 AM

*love*

Aenimal
Member Rara Avis

since 2002-11-18

Posts 7350
the ass-end of space

3 posted 2003-10-20 10:12 AM

brilliant, what better word?

..and then one day you find..ten years have got behind you..no one told you when to run..you missed the starting gun..

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