What is the sadness we have in our life?
Work begun and living story;
A moment lost in peeling paint,
Lost as sand that blows.
When rhythm runs straight through thy soul,
Collapsing each fear in its spot.
Center my state around the pinnacle
Of rusting nail so beaten,
Cry again some sweet gold tears
Precious as rhododendron petals.
Tag: rusting
Don’t Cry Father (day 479)
Without words there are no places to fit between the spaces that occupy the recesses of this lucid destined body
The examples of torture don’t phase thine countenance for they wreak not havoc upon the brain
Sure, in the sweet of night nestled amongst the cute lovers sleeps a sound, resolute companion
But the sounds that spread outward from the turmoil keeps even the lifeless awake at night
Perhaps it’s the bitter truth that doesn’t comply with the answers that have fallen into the cracks
The same cracks which have begun to play upon the misfortune that crawls out of the drainage pipes that lay rusting
Lack of use caresses even the sweet droplets of dust that dance around every corner of the damage
Don’t cry my dear mother, the day had to come eventually even if we wanted to abandon all that stinks of the truth
Don’t cry my dear lover who swirls around the nights thoughts with a magic only fitting for a witch
Don’t cry father, sent away is the bitterness that never had a safe storage space in your towering cabinets of force
And onwards and upwards the sands spin and roll and create new spaces in the holes that have been abandoned
Despise the coward who among all whispers and shouts at the same two demons, unable to answer his own requests
Rest now, in this sweet night that nestles itself amongst the cold flaps of a long draped winter jacket
Rest dear lover on the sweet thought that one more day shall come where only the good times will pass by your mind
Fear not the answers you have known the whole time