| Bill in Beijing That Which Passes Passes Like Clouds |
Qin Nian Kuai Le
I am tired monkey eye I am the water that leaks from long death All waitng and wanting we Milk the soft tissue of terrible desire Dark oceans of cold night Breath like melting ice A million ways to beg for one more chance I am long dead snake husk I am forgetter and forgotten 3:38 AM - 1/1/2006 - comments {0} - post commentShare and enjoyPoem: 04Storms of wild sky She had eyes like endless night The dry dead heat of another Day of Texas style love and murder Waters of wild design One million ways to lose a life Words and walls of silence A thousand unsaid things Spider lips and snow white whispers City walls a mile high Redemption in a black cellar corner Embraced by a fallen angel Did I really know a thing about waiting? The dreary lack of anything wet And I watched vultures swarm As night opened up her Large and black leathery wings And I fell in to my deep sleep Where I remain to this day 2:19 AM - 9/10/2005 - comments {0} - post commentShare and enjoyPoem: 03
That which is dust Was once fine dreams That which is milk Once flowed like blood From a murdered bossom That which is now was once What was going to be the then The dirt under my fingernails Once gave birth to a rose Or covered a grave 2:16 AM - 9/10/2005 - comments {0} - post commentShare and enjoyPoem: 02
This thing and that thing All the words we know to make A sensible sentence to describe the World we devour minute by minute
Are never enough Something is always left out Or forgotten about So much is simply forgotten Those things we struggle to Define and make sense of Leave us without adjectives And tonal references Are the dead seeds we seek To give hope and direction Reason enough to wake and drink water 2:14 AM - 9/10/2005 - comments {0} - post commentShare and enjoyPoem: 01My face My fingers my dreams The way water becomes bone Stones and notebooks Sidewalk resolve Animals I cannot spell Death and her cabinet of promises The way a flower dies The face of a baby Is all of this really Only about me? When my breath stops, What do the pyramids of Geza Mean anymore? When my eyes roll back yellow and tired what will It matter to anyone anywhere What books I ever or never read Even does it matter to Myself tonight considering the situation In advance Can anything in my future matter at all Can the sun ever rise upon a dead planet and Give the shadow of promise If it does not Does it change anything one by an inch? 2:11 AM - 9/10/2005 - comments {0} - post commentShare and enjoyPoem: I am old nowI am old now My face a weak mask My words are lost things I have no Fingers to describe I am the smoke of yesterday The ash of tomorrow I am that which passes like clouds I am the noise that sounds like tasting ink I lay and wait For the most dreadful of endings Like a cactus Waiting for the dew or a bullet 2:03 AM - 9/10/2005 - comments {0} - post commentShare and enjoy |
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