| perfect |
[14 Jan 2006|02:25am] |
ruin and forethought
have done me in. sick is something
i do not have room for,
nor
the sheer fact of my pining.
it takes too much.
gone now and counting
so what and for what and
again. ask for it. the doing
is easier when it is done to
yourself.
and belief is a funny thing, afterall.
no one can say how much or little it
is worth, really, outside
the scope of now. enduring the
view of always. eyes may not
be all the sense we need as the
dance swings before us
and not else is to be had.
fine.
take it and go away.
|
|
| ten to one |
[14 Jan 2006|07:20am] |
i've decided that i
will win, regardless of the
current score; and all
the numbermen will run me down
like a feral dog in the street.
i've decided that very
soon is not so very
relevant; very recent more has
sweat on it and pants
from overtaxing itself.
i've decided that my
victory must be hard won;
my streak thus having been
far too benign to speak of, and
not too pretty, neither.
i've decided, finally,
to bring the whatall i
fanticize the things i dream
every bit of gore and gush
and gall that i may muster.
in the name of
getting what i want.
|
|
|
[14 Jan 2006|09:15pm] |
exceptance and absolutes are
not
going along some or any
rate
of measure; cannot be called
to
have say or not say, relent
or
succeed, as will is not possessed
by
anything other than we. now
isnt
this easy, or more, just? sense
dyes
its breadth all kinds of crazy
colors
now who was to blame for that,
i
wonder...? still, age comes and
finds
us whether close or far. whether
we
like it or dont.
|
|