orgami's diary

orgami's Diaryland Diary

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soul draped pocket

i reach in the night for only
memory

the cool air stillness spills
in through the raised white
frame of the tall window

the comforter is comforting
the LED of the clock steady
and changing on its rote

the nightmare dreams so chilled
with clarity i can taste
the fear in my turn
but there nothing there behind
me but more landscape more
scenery

its always back there
its never now or then or later
and im my age today

but everyone talks like i never
left
glad to have you back again
its like life in hell
(not Matt Groenings cartoon from
NOW magazine)

the moon was a whisp
swallowed up by time
snatched like a princess
in a riot of fire
the wake of happy stars
flaming their wanton
keep of the night

and i have to go
lonely and emptied

11:44 p.m. - 2008-05-06

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