Breaking Thoughts
Transition,
to no hours for sleep
you cannot begin to
believe in me,
beckoning the broken
to make a home
of make-belief.
Position
myself in between
the lock and the key,
opening to
a different part of me.
Will you hold me
when I let myself go?
Condition
the heart to find in itself
the silence that it needs
to preserve
a hope for higher knowledge,
than Jesus on my floor
can communicate.
Human Creation
Making snowflakes,
hands so tender
to create
what only a goddess can.
She molds and consoles
and longs for circles.
She hopes somewhere
our beings are made
out of something
stronger than clay.
Hierarchies hinder creativity
until creation
is nothing,
no art like that
of her body.
A lesson forgotten
in its simplicity
cannot slip to symbolism
of her identity.
Paths to Pride
Purple teacup
full of heritage
reborn on modern streets.
Walls of heros
she wishes could save her now,
2006-12-26
04:30:25
·
3 answers
·
asked by
the w
1
in
Books & Authors