5.07.2007

(I dug these out of an old journal)


Prayer


good morning

sounds like rain

random



patterns


in the dust

incomprehensible whispers of the past

like the suns rays

reaching

through the clouds



we spend our time

chasing shadows

of what we wanted to be



the children

we were



the memories

that become us

lie like naked reminders

of our pain



belligerent screams

pointed towards

your incoherent God


**********************************************

love



topless pink chocolate in a frantic symphony

beneath

delirious whispers

of screaming

love

produce languid bitter versions

of crushing

madness



(This is your brain on drugs...*laughs*)

2 comments:

super des said...

I prefer my chocolate symphonies to be wearing tops, thank you.

Serena Woodward said...

I know...pot is bad. No matter what people say, pot does NOT enhance your writing ability. *laughs*