Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Death [and the longing]


when once blue skies lingered over the bay where war ships lay prone silent still no whispers wait pregnant in their bows the sailors sleep soundly in the gentl breeze {drifting in from subtle seas} and on their finger tips bring dreams of fantastic unity and each is foolish and happily unsaid those fears those regrets not here not yet "on some foreign shores let them rest"

-and for just now sing-

simple melodies and think never so long of the final song rumbling slow deep on distant horizon on some other page yet crave so sweetly that unhappy dirge as well you know this tonal love:

a single pipe and just one drum

beats a simple score

[a theme familiar]

that begs the orchestra to join in harmonic praise for well [too well] we know these clouds>>>>

Help me now erect this pole and capture the storms

how i miss them so... ... ...

[and so together we dug the foundation and grasped the high metal pole and set firm in silver sands a beacon of our despair]

the ferrel clouds errant above the oceans glistening field have but one thought in mind at any given time and from over the edge of the earths unforgiving rocky fascade

where rivers end

where seas fall

::where ocean drifts to eternity::

these black clouds wrench up their tired husks and fought the falling torrent and now launch into the sky
               {the angel's tragic home}



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