Away, to Wait... (for D)

[ScaryDan]

Away, to Wait.... (for D)

Orange sky brings orange thoughts.
And greenness, and greyness, and black.
If it's wrong, and I'm sure that it is,
How does one make it right in one's eyes?
Waiting and wanting are having a feast.
Mine is not ready...yet to be killed,
and plucked, and roasted and carved.
  Aye, the trees know the waid.
  Rain comes never but for an age and a time.
  The air it moves unfeeling and cold.
  My house grows large.
  I sink into time, away, to wait.
I watch my orangeness grow.
For rightness and heartsongs, I wait.
No blackness, but for the explosions of light.
  Black time waits growing for red
  And orange grows in red,
  Overpowering orange, filtering through the sky,
  Reminds me of myself.
Orange sky fades to black, as I cannot wait
But cannot break the red,
Except for my own now spreads.
 

[Poeticsiren]

damn-that was fabulous

you guys amaze me...i wish i could write like that again

[luceluna]

"If it's wrong, and I'm sure that it is,
How does one make it right in one's eyes?"

"rightness" is not only subjective, but also comes in degress and shades.

that's the best poem i've ever seen you write, dan.

[ScaryDan]

Thankyou, both of you.


I'm caught in a jungle
Vines tangle my hands
I'm always so hot and it's hot in here
I say it's all right
      * * *
So I sit up late in the morning
And ask myself again
How do they kill children?
And why do I want to die?
They can no longer move
I can no longer be still
I hate my way

excerpt from Hate My Way by Kristin Hersh