i lay on the lea of hope as the brazen summer rain washes the sanguinary and still scent of a passing winter's lash where a million stars will drop in awe of the unsullied and undefiled, pure and undefined, lucid, bright and virginal, for beyond
Monday, April 27, 2009
Sparkle as the tinsle crown blazes from your eyes ,
Gaiety, to be celebrated in our slumber .
Along with the scintillation of your sole sweat ,
The taste of blitheness from it , escalates the purity of It .
the Something I think I know ,
the Something I think I knew ,
A chance still there ?
Could it possibly ?
. . .
The bliss of which has been choking , strangling , fastened , and
Stuck still in the back of my throat to ward all off ,
Is once again, out on my guileless and guideless hands ,
To let go ,
Let see ,
and let happen ?
. . .
Chuckle as my murrhine walls drip of coy tears and expired brume ,
I shudder at the anticipation of a cheerful carnage ,
.I. - .am allergic to love.
.am addicted to pain, and thoughts of it.
.unconsciously inflict agony.
.indulge my temptations.
.am obsessed with the word ether.
.am still missing the white thing. .am still wandering. .am still, There.