Friday, November 19, 2004

High Prices (old poem)

The tea swirls
about my warm soul
embracing my heart
caressing my sexual desire

Love has a price
time is usually the end
but honesty and truth
are divine inside the
tree of wisdom

My daisy's fall to the floor
with each doubt
love does not seek I
but little devils of desire
plant seeds in my dreams.

Why do I question my reality?
How do I always let down my guard?
What impasse must I accept to move forward?
Where do I begin to heal from the hurt?

Time slips through little fingers
sleep eludes the restless
a heavy burden fall onto your stoop
the thunder awakens the dark shadows.

Stop here in the middle
sink you heart into this wet shirt
caress the skin with bloody hands
enjoy the end of eternal life and death.


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