Sunday, August 29, 2010

her dark material

sordid cloud of spoken word
grayed in the dawning of new intention
little pill of presentation–bring in the light

splay open sight
conspire solitude–
intercom this message:
wisdom is hard to come by though everyone is selling it
and righteousness doesn't exist
except for in the mountains
and sometimes the ocean

prayer forecasts trouble and hope
while bodies kamikaze storm

the night steals away memory
letting thoughts jammble towards space
scenario relived 1000 fold times

decipher your distance
and call it circumstance

the bell sounds toll in the landscape
calling to home
calling to paper houses stacked against the rain

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