"In a sense, the story, or poem or verse or whatever it is you're writing, you can kind of think of it as a kind of projectile. Imagine it is a kind of projectile which has been specially shaped to be aerodynamic, and that your target is the soft grey putty of the reader's brain." --Alan MooreAll My EnginesAll my engines strong.
Roar creation 1000 m.p.h.
Round screaming curves.
The way get out of!
(stay with me now...)
Angel soft knife left
on trACk
Cut away. ties luv...
We are Gods now.
Emotions hollow deep.
A world crucifies dissent.
Exhale karma
(it's on yOUr breath)
The Prophet inside
INhales words.
House of MUSE
Solve my puzzle
Clarity of soul intention --found--
Chant with me.
Duty
Comsumption
Fire
In blood
--and wrecks--
too fast race car
MINd.
Poetry hungry
Eats the poet.
--master--
brings us to exhaustion
We all fall down.
"What kind of person are you?"
I plead hoping beautiful.
Calliope (not a person, an idea)
Responds in kind,
"You better go.
Before I decide."
Friend today gone tomorrow.
Sweet and sorrow pen know
All my engines are strong.
-posted by Nobius 3:51 PM 