Friday, February 25, 2011

"Lens Flare"

The white threadwork glistened in the sun’s expanse
The beheaded manikins were captured there
Like flies with wings snared by the ebon weave
A solar expanse and a blinding collapse
All in an instant

Sun dried emotion drug out in the open
I was splitting apart from the inside
As my glass fell in slow motion
Inanimate and floating through time
All at a glance

The hand fell from its rest within mine
A turning head is all I saw that night
As the sun went down so did my spirits
My eyes no longer harbor the strength to stay open
Nor my fingers the will to write

As I fade to the world’s injustice
Be it that I leave my own little mark
If not but a little scratch
I’d use my finger nails and make an “S”
Maybe I could manage an “O” and a couple “R”s
But I’d probably die before I finished with a “Y”

Saturday, February 19, 2011

"The Great Divergence"

There is darkness and there is light.
There is black and there is white.
Occasionally we fall into the grey.
At times when we are led astray.
The deepest black is a gift and not a curse.
It is but the purest white seen in reverse.
It is because of the darkness that we see the light.
The contrasting of being blind and having sight.