| Green
Purple Blues |
| The clash of visions, the material, & the spirit, the conquerer, & the poet. I seek to absolve the world in my girth of meta-standing. Poetisophical! overstand the understanding I perspective, is not standing at all. I prefer, lying with love. Is there love? Is there security? ...only in the wind and in the summer rain the future is made of yesterday's memories pain is the essence of passion is the root of love is the meaning of meaning in all these words. Both sides of the moon can shadow reason beyond any moment falseness is another shadow, it has no substance. Does everyone have emotions in the beginning? To fear a moan, half a touch closer my breath is nearer to smooth forever than ever a breath could whisper to be I am intoxicated on the flowing dreams of shattered scattered ashes I can only feel more... I can touch the smells of tomorrow, lightly with my lucid eye, and yet, I'd rather have sweet-nothing than a world of bitterness... but salt! now that is sweeter than sweetest bitters, & bitterer than sweetest fears, salt is my flavour, the oceans' ancient tears. And, I've bled enough fears for death & decay I give a hell of alot more than a damn and then I walk away... but we always return, so its good to give a hell of alot more than just a dram before we walk away. . |
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