Thursday, March 29, 2007

cosmic excursus

the burden of being.
hovering over
hirsute landscape,
barely landing
on pleasure. it
was poignant, the
almost. like dew.
hanging onto blades
it was a little more
than just being god; i
had the gratifying
uncertainty of
being forgotten.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

the slow walker

With fifteen minutes
to eternity, I
worked up a frenzy.
Shuddering in my
seat at the sheer
thought of having
been left behind.
Poetic license is
grossly exaggerated.
It taints the artist
whilst guiding the
blind. I hurried.
Before the feelings
come back. They
always come back.
Stronger, complaining
they never left.