Summer and Her
At the highest point, she stands
Stuck in contemplative melancholy
Searching for answers
Or clues to its beginnings
The parched limbs of stubble
Cut her bare toes
Violating
Their delicate, organic sheath
Mercilessly searching for moisture
She can seldom give herself
Gorgeous eyes shine suicide
When will I be invisible?
Summer, I painted a scene
It brought those words to life in three
Summer, I laid down, above, the glitter adorned night
And silently sparkled, in my own way
Summer shared my frail light
I'll find a way to join to ones who made me
Cover your eyes. Carve her name in the flesh of the earth
Summer, those words were denied by you
It brought relief for the earth and summer and her
Summer washed that canvas clean
And stung her bare skin
Cleansed her naked body
The summer sky came crashing down at the news of her
bleeding dark into the leaves
I picked up the shards and formed them into shapes
She wore that summer like an antique wedding dress
It made her realise that her journey, the short fall down
Was not meant for two
Ode to Conformity
sideways take. a step |[three feet exactly]|
a _beyond_ step to them
(a step to join the rest)
to them
outrageous you are
(but still belong) in your own way
_beyond_ (them) happiness (awaits)
the naivety of them all
to themselves (are they) unknown (?)
springtastic. you are. (despite winter's always)
s.p.r.i.n.g awaits
Beyond The System
follow.me…
(only three feet) away from the rest you are
(are you really) beyond (?)
No
(alone you would be
individual…)
Yes – respond to join yet another
"rest"
accuracy
If accuracy was was ever worthy,
or is,
or potentially is,
then what is what?
we stand on rock,
sure,
DAMN sure,
of where we are.
is that accurate?
ideas fill our minds,
and a thought in a cranium cell
springs forcefully
...do we call the accurate?
name tensions....