Friday, February 17, 2006

Stationary

So many failures
At such an age
Drove me to
Dissect the page

But it came out wrong:
Instead of a curse
I ended up tracing
The moon in reverse

I ended up running
From the wind
Drowned dreams
Drenched in sin

Magnetic fields
Held me fast
I sank to the bottom
Of a wine glass

Still the page screamed
"You're not even close!"
I turned to religion
For a stronger dose

I turned to religion
And it turned to stone
Carving out letters
In a jaw bone

Stupidly lonely
Mind in a cloud
I wandered and sang
A song out loud

And turning around
Was struck to see
A thousand blank pages
Following me

Example

3 comments:

phenomenon said...

WOW- did you write that?? that was amazing!

::smile::

Anonymous said...

You were meant to be many things - a poet is one of them.

flatlander said...

Please send all low-cal, non-wheat fortune cookies to: Fakiegrind, c/o the Internet.