Friday, August 27, 2010

Dissipated into Nothing

I hear the echoes fading
-far off sounds swallowed by the chairs:
near the carpet (in darkness) where senses don't reach.
Noise is the thing silence will impeach.

The empty crowd is calling.
A house kept clean for machines
bars the living crickets chirping with wings.

Pale shadows perpindicular to their origins,
light tries to penetrate but sins;
it's stopped by the opaque, reflecting and refracting.

Is light endless, moved yet unending?
Does light have limit like life?

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Ineluctable

Green cornfed lake,
clouds arrayed around their sunny lord,
bitably ripe and designated red,
hissing subterranean flame-spring,
useless incomplete assembly.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Redecorating

Rotted wreaths ring the king's halls' candles,
the largest sheds its' needles above the mantle,
green pine leaves pop in the chamber fire,
stacks of wrapped gifts sit unadmired.

The grandest wreath sheds its' dead leaves atop the mantle,
it was full of bells, cinnamon sticks, and red ribbons,
'twas placed against the cracked brick quite gentle,
where a princess sips tea and sups bon-bons.

This wreath was full of bells, cinnamon sticks, and red ribbons,
the decorator took the baubles out and soon will toss the wreath,
the princess offers her candy to her youngest sibling,
then stands and leaves the fire's heat.

The decorator brings things from the country and further,
new paintings to hang in the halls,
new candles to light up the walls,
new arrangements with which to bother.