Year
All tagged writing
Passion cuts things to pieces
like a shard of broken mirror
that warps a once soft reflection
into jagged shreds of light and skin.
Feel the hot flesh pulse
and flinch in momentary madness.
This transient touch
melts dignity like wax
and bleeds out restlessly
like a beacon of sordid wants.
Bite the lip of sensuality
and bury the questioning mind
under grappled skin and wet hopes
of subdued loneliness.
Tiredness is something worn on the head,
the never-ending wrap
of selfish fog,
it renders you blind,
hangs, with limp hostility around the brain,
dampens the synapses,
mutes the mind.
Education
is loose rag for bodies,
a fine silk for minds
woven in knowledge and time.
Born
in folly nakedness
our fingers reach out
for those glinting threads
of meaning
and feeling
to hush and hold
and swaddle our souls
‘till our voices ride breaths
and sow words that give depth
to the days spent in light
and in sorrow.
Make the cloth for a better tomorrow.
to dream. to exist.
sensibly
sanely
holding darkness within;
within walls, alone…
continue
absolute reality;
Lay steadily shut; firm,
under doors and bricks
wood and stone
Long Haunting years
are met by some,
no larks
for the sane organism
Feasted, the buds that lay on our tongues,
Wild are our minds, never ceasing to run,
Filled are our ears with music and words,
Moved are our bodies, yet what seems absurd,
The quiet of night is hard to bear,
When you long for someone to stroke your hair.
