Tuesday, September 26, 2006

cold truth

when the curtains were torn
to peel back the gloom
angry spites of white dust
tore stripes round the room

we saw all our sore eyes
blink lemon juice tears
and smiles became vices
clamped to our ears

spat wet from the mouth
that kept us well fed
slipped naked in shock
as bells shook our heads

we shivered with joy
when the spots hit our grins
and truth stood before us
hard icy and thin

lights whiten our souls
our eyes burning holes
feet slide on bright glass
to be free, joy at last

Friday, September 15, 2006


is this the grey
that we fought like death to keep away?
this the sleep
that muffled our dried and weary weeping?
was this the numbness
aquiescence past the tempest
the bare bleached glare
of a waxen mourning stare
shorn of hope. forlorn?
was this the prize,
worth any price,
where's the trace of this burning race?
whose steps ran through the dreary waste
and washed away at salty shores
a path that vanished in the mist
rinsing the prints that marked our chase
when unpeeled senses ached to taste
give me a bite, bite deep.
make my senses run bright, fight sleep
wake me up shake me
i'm fading from sight.
dissolving unfolding till i'm flat as the screen
when you'll never believe that we lived in that dream