Thursday, December 3, 2009

the abandonment [rise]

clash flesh against flash to sound that trebly roar from the palms of our hands to the high domed sky and look to the others who share our joy our tears our confusion our heart that cranks a rapid pace and plays the bass for the choir that plays reprise and pays the coin to feed the empty hand

and:

could he truly dare to speak those words as though they commence some completed thought that here amongst our several minds there lives some sincere  divide [divine] [refined] (rewind replay the tragic the fun the happy the longing the one) single perfect model of life that wraps so happy around these words that state themselves in reference books //we're false we lie we could not care how truth defines our name\\ and yet we give we still respond we file : one by one : to have our thoughts they're borrowed they're sold they're lost amongst the varnished revolve that spins it grows it idles it throws these phrases to our jaws that click and break and love and wait and spit and drink the stew

now:

rise frail friends from your wooden chairs back the way you came from seperate parts of seperate worlds that never asked nor begged nor hoped that never breed the same replies that never care for this the greatest lie the sanest truth the roof the floor the wall the wall the wall the stage

and:

its a fair fury that held our hopes for all these years in fresh fingers in boney prose how could ever we truly give our simple souls to the crystal loom and drape the garment that ravels out upon our square set shoulder blades or bite the cloth and tear the ends and treat our pouring wounds

-and the empty stage to the empty pews-
..you left me as i left you..

here on the streets in the failing light the bodies bereft of mind make feigned attempts to resume the dance the one that filled the stage that filled the limbs of the puppet muse and dazzled the hungry eyes

make me the same i want no more to have this empty hope

~we cried~

it was me that hooked my pretty hands to the hanging silken thread

and all the same though many plees you layed towards my callous resolve you knew the script you brought it in -you wrote it one dull summer eve- did not you know that once you penned those words that clash so false too soon those words that clamour so eagre so true to romantic dreams you wrote the words and so did i the ones that follow the rhyme and tear from structure some timely demise and give to verse a well deserved . long awaited . betraying . hated . inevitable . happily stated and never denied final eternal demise.

it was expected by sheer design
you always knew and so did i
the words that wait
-before the ticket was stamped-
before even the paper stained
that ink drenched opening line

rend it from your frosty lips
please wrap your tongue around the sting
and i promise to do the same
dear
sweet
friend
utter that demanding line
though happy
though sad 
the end.





...but we have yet our names to sign... 



1 comment:

Kirby Thomas said...

I am always intrigued by your writing. This post in particular broke my heart. I'm not entirely sure why. It was beautiful yet sorrowful. I am in love with it.