So who can live
who can read
who can give?
A painting of a semblance of reflections
pieces of half read dead thoughts
trained for a degree in babylonian hussie
Wow give me more
the last image of this:
Statue of liberty in mind hangs
horozontally
vertical lines abhore
and scream of layered tents
pleading to a father within unperfect all
saying they don't believe...
and in private wispers of greatness
guilt wears thin like wheat
but heart beats must end
tears spent like atom bomb casings
and the plastic scratches on backs of cards
Eros and his castle will not repeat
the journey of long ago
for in forgivness want and hunger
thirsting for springs
black and old yellow smelling like storage of scrolls universal babylon whore.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
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1 comments:
Just a vent towards "intellectuals" who equate intellegence with making references not their own. And to justify personal thought and creativity in everyday things each one has to experience.
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