snow falling on weak cedars, as i wept
blood from every pore/ice cube for an apex!
and in the suffocating trance i slept
life is broken: inanimate object
blunt glass chards fell like manikin snowflakes
as dime less beggars drown in sorrows' street
my malevolent eyes prayed for time awake
every soul must seek the grave incomplete
cryptic meaning tied in spattered phrase
crept like blistered midnight fog in autumn
and blinds the eyes in an enormous maze
yet I snared just enough to make me numb
in lightening-strike fashion it's this i hear
"My son, it is not death that you shall fear."
the dawn's early rays have come once again
to spark the wick of lovely life's lamp
they crept thru the window as she and i
lay nestled in bed, intertwined like lovers grape vines
the glow skipped off her fluent skin like rocks heaved across
an icy pond as her chest rose and fell to the beat
of her silent drum
and at this very moment i'd like to scream I
am Monet, and you are my brush muse canvas
and with our love i'd stroke the skies a pale pink and
ink the blades a green that screams combustion
yet the light just tap dances on her eyelids as
we lay as one with the
sheets strewn about
by mica semrick
"i am Hero" frail lips
spit a battle cry unto the frigid breeze
as bullets tear f l e s h
like old wrapping paper unconditional love
is an idealist joke the unwilling penetration
of natives small children's tears fall like the
unarmed torsos burst into submission
faceless trunks that lay upon the earth slowly
blood makes victory, sir