Thursday, August 15, 2013

2 birds: 1 glass of carbonated OJ

Hot minutes dissolve into the coldest hours.
 We stared down our tribulation
and designed a new jujitsu swing dance
Barefoot on the kitchen floor 
To murder that which held us down,
and threatened our existence.

The night passed quickly
through our clumsy choreography 
The dawn was something more brilliant than golden
Spreading itself across the horizon
Greedily eating up every corner of darkness
Dangling freely in the pit of every pupil daring enough to look
Profusely proposing the illumination of alliteration

Out of calamity creeps
such preposterous poetry

Tired tires try.
Taunted by trauma,
tearing tread, tearfully,
tracing tomorrow's triumphs.
Stretching space,
solidifying time.
Taking all debts to death;
Decayed dreams decieve
all forms of diplomatic decision.
Dynamic disbelief
disintegrates hope.
Harrowed heroes
hold heavy to the light.
Listening listlessly at length,
Learning to appreciate the fever,
Fervently finding love,
leaking in the fissures
of false frequencies
and fractured forevers.
Honoring horrors held hostage
by murky memory,
Humbly hammering hope

for a happy,