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I. Midnight

Contributed by omeoteotl on Thursday, 20th May 2010 @ 10:09:50 AM in AEST
Topic: abstract

Midnight must not be this long.

I am awaiting to take shape in an open storm
Thru the calm secret door of draining
Back fold.
Warping memory by disturbing sight,

That is of myself
His callus nature calls directly:

Mocking
Absurd proverb
Where is chemical independence
Serving
Its uniform of colors
Politely?

Beneath a tree over turned?
Beneath the skin that has burned

Below my left hand?

Discard my irreverence
Despite the symbols
And projection.

I heard one time a rumor unkind in its riddle.
A game of suggest in private marking.

It seemed calm as the delay of timing.
Spelled so an influx of directed
Lightning I am not deserved
Nor should sustain.
In all terms will be relegated
To the band abstract.

I will suffer alone
Beneath the bloody beaks
Taughnting insanity
From a wire hanging as decoration
From my challice window.

Hear my cry do you.
Hear it well and devour
This selling calendar,
Of
Oceanic reflection in partial making.

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Copyright © omeoteotl ... [ 2010-05-20 10:09:50]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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