Saturday, 18 January 2014

In Grateful Disgrace

Creative destructions
of boundless ruptures.
Shattered windows, severed 
memories. Divinity and 
sweet resolution with 
awful repercussion.

Banishment from reason,
we push our wrists into 
grafted oblivions.
Are we grateful?
Caressed moonlight
bring blackened soul light. 


Words of defiance fall
upon deaf ears, keen
to find sunlight in dark corners.
What bright lights we hold
over our shoulders, absconded.
In his silences you solicit
words that should not repeat to 
We are all but blank canvases 
tainted by the shadows that dance
across broken easels and
misguided grooves, buried into
unstoppable routine.