I again


Everything is on line.
Everything is all one might conceive,
interpret or ignore.
Time, naked, bared to the skin,
moves beneath caressing fingers.

You are among the blind
– catacombs, flesh, flesh, flesh.
You are, you are!

Crossroads we are,
whispering, creeping,
always expecting more.

Knowledge is a sword,
cutting deep into certainty.

Woe to the whish
of lazy reduction,
of more at ease
and casual surface.

Putrid eves of no more,
sulfurous to the beat
of generous heart,
claims no dominion,
dares to dance
in blood and violence.

I am the voice you hear.
I, burning at insolent fire,
I that fails and yet,
morning will always be morning,
intentions solemn.

That is I
and established.

Lesser men dives in dreams.
Lesser men leans on faith.




Poetry by Bob
Read 405 times
Written on 2011-04-17 at 22:43

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Bengt,

A lot of ambiguity and juxtaposing going on here. I like it. Nothing is as certain in this life as uncertainty. I'm certain of that. I'm speaking, of course, as a lesser man. I dream and I have faith. Though faith in what, that I've never figured out, nor do I bother to try. I take it on faith that faith is a good thing to keep at hand.

Thanks for sending my thoughts into the zone.

jim
2011-04-18