Friday, June 13, 2008

I Will Be a Story

The day began as a mirage.
Dressed in the garb of a wise king,
I stumble into the desert searching for stories
in the sand.
I find no realism in the sun.
cannot be blamed on transitory light. It is my eyes
which censor the spectrum of time.
Recycling miracles,
With a dangerous emptiness, the wind
bellows and encompasses the earth. sagging dunes
translate moments. They know time well.

Tonight it's drafty and dark.
While sweeping up our my, I wonder
if the wind celebrates itself
or if the sky and the oceans
honor it and how.

“Tell me I am like the sand. Tell me
I am a ruptured star – the grit
of an ancient supernova,
Tell me when I settle
the wind will swipe me up and
scatter me

This makes no sense
but yet it does.
It's all so real from the real perspective.


Killin Time said...

fuck being a lawyer.. become a poet! i love it!

Sutta said...

Welcome back dahling! ;)

Absolutely Normal Chaos said...

I love it. Awesome.