Monday, 05 April 2010

  • we write

    our souls are pendulums
    swinging rhythmically between
    torture and ecstasy
    and when the energy ebbs
    we drink to force the bob
    back toward the extremes

    where we feel most at ease

    and we write

    our eyes and ears,
    olfactory lobes
    and yes, our taste buds
    dream of Ritalin stupor
    fingers tap/slide, tap slide
    exciting in tensile pleasure
    until our hearts crackle
    and fissure
    with the glory of
    all we perceive

    and we write

    our minds work overtime
    to rationalize the hours spent
    turning phrases, turning pages
    hanging our hopes on
    Richelieu’s statement
    imagining might
    of which we may never
    become acquainted

    and we write

     

    our only hope of salvation
    will come while standing before
    our maker
    our only response
    to the question of how
    gifts bestowed
    were invested for the greater good
    will be

    that we wrote  

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