torn pipelines
thoughts
resounds in lights
printing blindness
hearts leaking their pulses
to where I outer cry denial resisting
what happens is
not happening.
fourteen fathoms down concentric seams
between these garbled currencies
where words desist where they
thrash against placement
you were a brook of violet
who turned vermilion to black
and blackness your reflex
re-sits in you..

The small man and his plush coat.

 slight light cracked into the house as the morning sun blossomed above the clouds

high and bright the spirt of the sun was the brightest of them all

the little girl fiddled with the key then slowly pulled back the door. Entering the long passage way in search of her father who was a rather short man with a strong chin he could never part from his plush coat and favorite scarf and was known for or loathed for a few drops to menny of the unpleasant smelling soppy's after shave. she found it unusual that the air was not stale with the stench of his after shave... 

the bed room door was laid partially opened she stumbled while peeking in causing a creek as the door leaped out.

(well it must have been an egar emergency) she thought 

for nothing had been tuched their sat on the bed his striped candy like scarf and the small plush coat (odd) she said (must ask Platrovelos if he knows of the were about of my father" Platrovelos was a great wizard and it is said if he doesn't know then there is nothing to be told.

a sedative? tell me. what. will go next?

can you strain it in paints the color of my emotions. 

any wider? but you dilate the hour so later hours fit

inside who you will be, scarce, frail as air at damaged altitudes

someone inhales unaware it was you

distracting me...

Clouded Skys In Afternoon Showers
The Sky Rings Out its Last Drops Dry.
As the Light of the one eyed 
Breaks Through the night 
like waves crashing over foreign shores
a jealous moon
retires to a temple of thought 
Stomaching his defeat wishing to swallow the suns horizon.

To have loved and still have 
Remorse and Regret


Both Sample a palet of un sang psalms of retained scriptures


to tail that deep 
is Destiny
But a failed love is darker then the Belly of the nights Shadow


Their !
a long Silence 
And a soft Breeze Blows
.........
The words I HATE YOU
Feels like Warmth into the mouth of a snow soft carven

The sun gives warmth, the days go by the sun stays warm and still the days go by.....

Love

Is the Extremely 

Difficult realization 

that something other

than oneself is real

-Iris Murdoch

CONTACT

ELLIE
      (a beat, then
       softly)
  You may not believe this... but
  there's a part of me that wants more
  than anything to believe in your
  God.  To believe that we're all here
  for a purpose, that all this...
  means something.  But it's because
  that part of me wants it so badly
  that I'm so stubborn about making
  sure it isn't just self-delusion.
  Of course I want to know God if
  there is one... but it has to be
  real.  Unless I have proof how can I
  be sure?

     JOSS
  Do you love your parents?

     ELLIE
      (startled)
  I never knew my mother.  My father
  died when I was nine.

     JOSS
  Did you love him?

     ELLIE
      (softly)
  Yes.  Very much.

     JOSS
  Prove it.