Saturday, September 25, 2010

Midnight Desease

All day I have been telling myself that I wanted to write more and every time I do this I end up writers blocking myself. How does this happen. I get in the mood. Feel like I can write anything in the world. And somehow just can't find time, although I'm not doing a single thing. And then boom, I have nothing to say anymore. I'm interested in this circle of madness in myself. There really should be no excuses for it. So tonight...or today...this morning, I will attempt to force this has become my major goal here.

The forest will call out to you,
as I have done many times before.

You hear the tiny calls
of even the rustles in the leaves.

Yet my screams have become mute to you
a silent thing in the night.

And there is nothing left
for me to say to speak to you.

Cold here,
in the night.


I write for days.
For days to come.
To come into light.
Into light from the night.
The night will speak to me.
To me alone it heals.
It heals my mind of suffering.
Of suffering in the cold.

The cold mind of mine.
Of mine to hold dearly.
Hold dearly do I of my thoughts.
My thoughts of sacred bliss.
Sacred bliss please take me.
Take me to your place.
Your place of beauty.
Of beauty I will write.


in the deep dark see of this lonely night,
I see you.
and in the depths of these thoughts of mine,
I hear you.

you are the darkest of lies,
the seas of my tears.
you have traveled far,
in my trust my dear.

in the light of a sunny day,
I shall not see you.
and in the cracks of my love,
I shall never hear you.

for my days will be of peace,
many smiles to come.
and my heart shall beat on,
for only me.


little chicken
don't cluck.
little chicken
please duck.

little chicken
just smile.
little chicken
wait a while.

little chicken
don't grow.
little chicken
to and fro.

little chicken
little chicken.
don't go.

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