Friday, December 08, 2006

Flight // Press

As I stumble into sleep, my mind is whirling round,
throwing reason to the ground
and to truth no longer bound
and the sound

of a muted passion rising to the faded skies
writing out our daydream lives
or mechanics of demise
and my eyes

do not question the abruptness of the flight
stealing me to starless night
painting shades of dark delight
and tonight

neurons reconstruct the patterns woven by today
cortex musings on display
my subconsciousness buffet
and I play

soaring diving twisting in this clouded air
shielded hatreds are ripped bare
and desires will declare
and I care

not for modesty or judgments by those left outside
for my swooping screaming ride
flies these skies where I can hide
and I glide,

panting, to the earth; adventure can no more extend,
flight of fancy, quickly penned,
finds itself drawn to an end.
I descend.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Gone (Press)

it sweeps me away
on high, heaving swells,
and I'm nothing
but icy limbs