May 26, 08
Arachnid’s web hung
Lace over cradle like
Over mountain tops
Leaves are crisping
Smoking before
Before scaling down
Birds of all colours
Spread hate as
They choke and sing
She fell stone like
As the pit between
Her two mounds
Held more fire
Than the smoulder
On her charred skin
Singularity made
Her rough on edges
But could never hide
Porcelain insides
I Believe in Beautiful Words
About Me
- Color Changed
- "I write like people doodle and sing in the shower. All the time, anything, yet always seemingly less than adequate." -Me. Blogs are here for me to put random thoughts And for random people to read? That seems idiotic and futile. What do I gain from my out-put? Surely you gain nothing from this in-put If I keep rambling on and on, will you keep reading? That seems foolish. Why are you wasting time? And why am I? . (Not all poetry may be listed in the right order or writing, follow the dates at the beginning of each writing. Inconvenience I know- Oh well-)
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