Tuesday, March 23, 2010

flight surge

A bird in my hand cornered its own beak. It was there by choice. It had risen into the cavernous mouth of the blue sky, all the whole waiting to be captured by a voidful mind.


Friday, March 12, 2010

pot of lie

every blue-eyed boy that
trotted along to me held in his soft hands
a inviting pot of lie.

Best brewed when served hot,
the courage that it built everytime it fell successful,
was all it needed to keep at it.

in a condition it leaves it.
the daze is overpoweringly enticing.
Help is needed to sustain the state.

all that the boy gave,
it took into its slavering mouth.
more of rockbottom played strings.

quietly it leaves it,
silent and based.
the leverage forms him his next step.

every day, in everyway, it's fading away.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

the tale

how can you be sure
that you're safe in this place?
with lions on the prowl

in this place
all we can long for
is the headrush.
marbles getting re-alligned;
everything being set right