The unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies. sometimes it's like talking to a human by esp (e book reader .txt) 📖
Download in Format:
- Author: esp
Book online «sometimes it's like talking to a human by esp (e book reader .txt) 📖». Author esp
when the abuser
sand
finishes its tickling
slavery
my heart
my heart
give it back
give it back
mother fucker
------------------------------
everyone is old
everyone is old
and no one
(with dreams unfulfilled)
can stand the
burning light
of the sun
none can
and none have
so burn with me
----------------------------
hopes
our hopes
rise and fall
like the fists
of the crowd
but our dreams
struggle
then die
is every smile
is every smile
now an insult?
every careless caress
a stab?
i sit on my haunches
in all corners of this room,
as every other
disappears
behind my articulate
anthem
lies a stainless
silence;
as any star,
an imperfection
in the night
leviathan
deep
in the muscle
smoke
from 10,000 estuaries
trust
through the bloodstream
and fire
in every synapse
when you stand
the machine stands steely
but on the edge of leaving
anxiety
as the machinery falls
apart
go then
and let my cogs
my whistles
rust
and tumble
or stay
and shrubs grow
from beneath this leviathan's
stainless shadow
cast from the sun
your mighty presence
broken wings
the moon
behind barbed wire
above the wall
that is my home.
i'm no caged animal,
not some beast
imprisoned,
but like the vole
burrowed into
a warm nowhere.
or foot-nailed
like jesus
to this spot,
sometimes.
while the venture
of the bat
or the bird
should be my
legacy;
sometimes i watch them
jealously,
the winged ones,
against the moon
or cyan sky
and i wonder
who made gravity?
his appetite
voracious
and will i
remember
how to fly?
the raptor of physics
a jealous,
jealous god.
accident
derelict mind
in keen mixture
of hysteria
irony
and self-pity
use it
involve us
and if genius
call it that
we can forget
replaced by stunning rage
somehow
survivable
call it that
too
starlight lolling
and self righteous
an existence
feeling hopeless and dead
not to mention
the grueling bloom
accident returns numbers
to open (send)
and to close
Imprint
sand
finishes its tickling
slavery
my heart
my heart
give it back
give it back
mother fucker
------------------------------
everyone is old
everyone is old
and no one
(with dreams unfulfilled)
can stand the
burning light
of the sun
none can
and none have
so burn with me
----------------------------
hopes
our hopes
rise and fall
like the fists
of the crowd
but our dreams
struggle
then die
is every smile
is every smile
now an insult?
every careless caress
a stab?
i sit on my haunches
in all corners of this room,
as every other
disappears
behind my articulate
anthem
lies a stainless
silence;
as any star,
an imperfection
in the night
leviathan
deep
in the muscle
smoke
from 10,000 estuaries
trust
through the bloodstream
and fire
in every synapse
when you stand
the machine stands steely
but on the edge of leaving
anxiety
as the machinery falls
apart
go then
and let my cogs
my whistles
rust
and tumble
or stay
and shrubs grow
from beneath this leviathan's
stainless shadow
cast from the sun
your mighty presence
broken wings
the moon
behind barbed wire
above the wall
that is my home.
i'm no caged animal,
not some beast
imprisoned,
but like the vole
burrowed into
a warm nowhere.
or foot-nailed
like jesus
to this spot,
sometimes.
while the venture
of the bat
or the bird
should be my
legacy;
sometimes i watch them
jealously,
the winged ones,
against the moon
or cyan sky
and i wonder
who made gravity?
his appetite
voracious
and will i
remember
how to fly?
the raptor of physics
a jealous,
jealous god.
accident
derelict mind
in keen mixture
of hysteria
irony
and self-pity
use it
involve us
and if genius
call it that
we can forget
replaced by stunning rage
somehow
survivable
call it that
too
starlight lolling
and self righteous
an existence
feeling hopeless and dead
not to mention
the grueling bloom
accident returns numbers
to open (send)
and to close
Imprint
Text: 2008 esp
Publication Date: 11-14-2008
All Rights Reserved
Free ebook «sometimes it's like talking to a human by esp (e book reader .txt) 📖» - read online now
Add a comment
Comments (0)