from your fullness sprung a
naive, gentle woman
whose eyes are shut from
your evil, whose lips cannot
speak of your insanity,
whose thoughts are ravaged,
deserted, spoiled
whose soul seeks neither
compassion nor compromise
her fantasies elude her,
judging from one, sharp
breath she takes in so you
may have fire and splendor to
spare on atoms built upon beliefs.
loneliness
posted by
imani
, Sunday, November 14, 2010 at 5:24 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
glance
posted by
imani
, at 5:22 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
perfect or imperfect, still or
restless, there are truths
that do not perish, as there
are nights that do not end
i have come to live on
one furtive, fleeting glance
with solitude begging for
another beginning, a chance,
an onset, a possibility
of finding all that remains
after years and years of ruin
and wretchedness, when all
things lie in the mercy of your hands
barren, empty, cold.
restless, there are truths
that do not perish, as there
are nights that do not end
i have come to live on
one furtive, fleeting glance
with solitude begging for
another beginning, a chance,
an onset, a possibility
of finding all that remains
after years and years of ruin
and wretchedness, when all
things lie in the mercy of your hands
barren, empty, cold.
passion
posted by
imani
, at 5:19 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
the sadness wraps this body
bare of memories, its veins and
bones exist without a sound
the rain has just fallen,
trespassed the sanctity of this
permutated soul, the light
elevates and escalates until
everything is shapeless
until everything is kindled
by one taunted, delirious
fight that rescues the
dawn from ever being consumed,
racing to the naked, unarmored
embrace i call you.
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