the furture past |
This is the Hymn for my dearly departedthe wounded walking dead.Gone now from me to fight your outside warslest the ones inside you win.No gold nor silver may save youno sacrement or ceremony will bin...
Posted by on Sat, 28 Feb 2009 19:47:00 GMT |
sword and stone and wing and water |
I took the last of things that were not mine today
and cast them to the river, the waters cool and solemn
did take from me all things that were angry and wicked
and washed them down its stone throat.
...
Posted by on Fri, 26 Dec 2008 01:14:00 GMT |
hereafter...evermore. |
Oh angry mirror, your callousness has wounded deeply,
and I find myself much agrieved and not able to relent.
for your wickedness come upon you like a black storm cloud spinning
with wickedness your e...
Posted by on Fri, 26 Dec 2008 01:08:00 GMT |
since waking |
I felt as if I could have stepped into the clouds today
with my anxious left foot and been as a leaf on the river.
I could have taken the tools He gave to me...and rewrote my own history.
but instead ...
Posted by on Tue, 11 Nov 2008 02:55:00 GMT |
the suicides lullaby. |
he told a lie, I wanted to believe
that my father somehow still loved me
Never good enough, now not at all
When phenoms falter, they always fall.
The sorrow of my childhood,
is written on this bathro...
Posted by on Tue, 11 Nov 2008 02:40:00 GMT |
The deepest places |
You live inside me, a wick burning in my memory
silver and magnesium flame
reflected through the spider webs of unending doubt and sorrow.
I, burned and worn down, soft edges and frayed middle
dip dow...
Posted by on Thu, 18 Sep 2008 13:31:00 GMT |
Prayers for death |
God knows even angels fall sometimes,
the slip and drop and suddenly you're hurtling through
ninety million miles of darkness, alone and wondering.
The devil is in the details, or so they say
but I th...
Posted by on Thu, 18 Sep 2008 04:23:00 GMT |
a time to dream... |
Forever is such a long time
promises wrapped in the hope of something good
and sweet
and shining.
But I am the King of Goblins
I knwo that the dark waits for us all.
that fingers will find only sticks...
Posted by on Tue, 08 Jul 2008 12:41:00 GMT |
rain |
I pray for rain, for deluge,
for the coming of disasters
and disease.
I pray for desolation and corruption
Of decay and destruction
of complete lack of consolation.
I don't want to live in a world
mad...
Posted by on Tue, 08 Jul 2008 08:50:00 GMT |
Love is absinthe |
Love is absinthe
gold and myrrh.
It is elderberry wine, and all that implies.
But it is cracked and brittle and has a million sharp edges.
It is cold and callous and liable to pass you by.
Hurt and h...
Posted by on Tue, 08 Jul 2008 08:44:00 GMT |
