the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


May this prove responsive
Though my beat peaks in Boston.
The L.E.D. screen screams in bleeps,
"I am lost!"
But arterial maps always lead me back home.
And lyrics snaps tell me I'm not alone,
I am here.
Somewhere near the edge
Of the glass,
Of the past,
Its prison is warped in the prisms of tears.

I peer in and seer skin
From the sharpness of it all:
A distinct recollection,
I drink from my reflection.
It is thick with the sickness of a love mid-
Sentenced to the senseless sense of solidarity.
But she visits,
And her kisses,
Always there with me.

We make rounds to the sounds
Of a tune of never ending,
The prisoned past passes
Through the white light-prism bending.
So I'm still chasing rainbows
And I'm still where the rain goes,
Always and forever,
She took the best weather.

This rainstorm's a brainstorm
Most days of the year,
So forgive the rhythm-patter
You seasonally hear.
And sometimes you need,
So you can relearn,
The sturdiest bridges can never be burned.
Thanks for compassion,
And thanks for concern,
Consider this finished:
A message returned.

1 comment:

The Traveller in the Dark said...

You just verbally hugged me. Touche, signore. Touche.