You
are
a thought
lodged
deep
in
my
inner
mind,
and
from there
you
cannot
flee.

Seeking a fulfillment
For the yearnings of my soul
That I know I cannot find
In this moment in time.

Longing to express
The many-faceted emotions
Lodged deep in my being,
Knowing the time is not right.

Searching for words
To explain the sensations
Of my body and mind.
I know they do not exist.

Wanting so desperately
To change my whole self
Not able to accept myself,
A silent pawn of society.

Your body curls into a corner.
Your fingers pick a tune.
Your mind dreams on a wavelength
unknown to anyone but you.
Your thoughts absorb the music
your hands are producing.
And somehow nothing matters,
but the hair in your face
and the tears falling from
Eyes Unseeing.

A wind howls through the night,
it tears itself through my life.
Leaving my emotions torn
and ragged, full of pain.
Tattered like a beggar's cloak
of richest satin.
Branded with the dust
it sweeps before.
Broken.

As a flickering flame
leaves a mark on flesh,
so you left a mark
upon my heart.
Why are there no such
things as love grafts?

The early faces of my memories
are slowly fading now.
They make place for new images,
fresh and clear
and beautifully sketched in pain.

I lean against the railings of time,
willing them to break.

I'll always find another dream,
another illusion to cherish.
And there'll always be another pain,
different from those before.
And I'll always learn another lesson,
more tearful than the one before.

Cotton flowers stitched in red.
A sky with blue and grey.
A black ball of noisy fluff.
The golden touch, a silky smile.
You and me, grammar?
Running, laughing, sand.
Crying, the end, why?
Where are the smiles?
Tears? Everywhere, everyone.
Why? Sand blowing.
Biting, cutting. Why?
You and I, gone.
Crying, laughing.
Why? Who learns today?

The wheels spin crazily.
The people lurch,
sickeningly.
Once. Twice.
Then all movement ends.
Death struck.
Madly.
Who argues?

Even as you read this line,
somebody's dying.
Somebody's giving up the struggle
and dying.
How dare he?

You stood on my foot.
I screamed in pain.
You smiled.
Then you stood on my love.

Quiet people all around me.
Not a sound, not a murmur.
Only ominous stares, quietly,
surely making me tremble.
Accusing faces crowding in,
condemning without haste.
But irrevocably.

The past rises closer to the present.
And the future is not far away.
And soon the present will be no more.
And the future will be in command,
and the past will be forgotten,
in the rush to receive the future.
And the future is not far away.

Alabama

Last modified on Sunday, 7. March 1999