Tuesday, May 13, 2008


Category: Issue 10


cracked edge marble skin,
sucking in on wet blue lip,
slipping into frost

he yells out, the creases of his face crack, the warmth of his words belied by the tone, welcome to this land you’d foregone, welcome to this hand you’d foresworn, welcome band of forgotten inspirations, your separation has been noticed, your notions sorely missed, are you back to reclaim the throne, or is this visit nostalgia for home, prepare to fight, for this place is no longer your own.

clash of thought and bone,
grinding of cognitive gears,
strip themselves useless

sweep of battle begun on the frozen fields long fallow, no new thoughts in ages, just ruins of ideas once pressed hard into pebbles, sown, grown into granite plants upon which a person was built, convictions calcified in the cracks of the living stone, mortar for the mind and held together against time, but long since exposed, knee deep in thoughtless want and waste, the battle rages with haste across the open fields until all notions have fallen, thrown to the water’s edge, subsumed, forgotten, then gone.

sinking stone dies hard
amongst the living weeds, they
look skyward, backs turned




Posted by doprava on 05/13 at 09:23 AM | Permalink
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