Smoke Signals: The bird that plucked the Olive Leaf has been circling like a record around the spindle of my mind where the needle's worn the grooves too deep

3.28.2009

The bird that plucked the Olive Leaf has been circling like a record around the spindle of my mind where the needle's worn the grooves too deep

I have now spent over 3 hours today writing blog posts.

But now all I have is this.

This black hole seems be sucking everything up.

1 comments:

luke said...: you need to come back into town. joseppi's really starting to miss you.; April 3, 2009 at 3:03 PM

Smoke, Stars, God

I lay on cold, unrepentive
pavement, whispering prayers
to the stars as if they were god
and not just part of God. They
flicker as if humbly replying.
But- I wonder-
maybe they’re just dying-

Nights like this,
the first cold chill
of a dead summer, can only be
warmed by lit cigarettes.
The cold burns my bones
and the smoke blinds my eyes;

Such is transition-

Only the past, the whole past,
presents itself here; More
dangerous than the burning
chemicals I inhale, more
beautiful than second hand
smoke-

As I lay, I think of how
many others are doing the same
thing; Failing to live in the
present knowing there is a future-
How many others are feeling
this first chill that forgets fall,
stinging like winter- How
many others stars are collapsing
as they hope to God, speaking
in smoke signals-

Smoke Signals

3.28.2009

The bird that plucked the Olive Leaf has been circling like a record around the spindle of my mind where the needle's worn the grooves too deep

1 comments:

Smoke, Stars, God

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