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Literature Text
Opaque
Blank/Free
1-14-11
9 stanzas
Diaphanous,
Luminescent in a pixel web,
Like the last dewdrop left by the sun:
Child of the mo(u)rning,
You crossed these broken ocean tides,
To extend a simple hand.
A hand that was vicious,
Attached to an arm that had swung:
Tossing trophies down mountainsides.
Realize:
I accept it with outward nonchalance,
And an inward wound - mended by the flame.
Keeper of the p(l)ain,
Your love of other souls but mine
Has suddenly stopped its knocking
On the door I slammed shut,
I etched words of my redemption,
Though the season never seemed right.
Opacity.
Now the duplications cease
And the cursor simply adjusts you.
Are we (in)sane enough
To command placement of stone slabs
Over the ancient rubble of our bridge?
For I had built a house there
Underneath that old wooden bridge,
And I'm expecting you to retrieve its debris.
Blank/Free
1-14-11
9 stanzas
Diaphanous,
Luminescent in a pixel web,
Like the last dewdrop left by the sun:
Child of the mo(u)rning,
You crossed these broken ocean tides,
To extend a simple hand.
A hand that was vicious,
Attached to an arm that had swung:
Tossing trophies down mountainsides.
Realize:
I accept it with outward nonchalance,
And an inward wound - mended by the flame.
Keeper of the p(l)ain,
Your love of other souls but mine
Has suddenly stopped its knocking
On the door I slammed shut,
I etched words of my redemption,
Though the season never seemed right.
Opacity.
Now the duplications cease
And the cursor simply adjusts you.
Are we (in)sane enough
To command placement of stone slabs
Over the ancient rubble of our bridge?
For I had built a house there
Underneath that old wooden bridge,
And I'm expecting you to retrieve its debris.
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