Friday, September 22, 2006

Caryatids are not Katydids

A Beast Called Sorrow (9/22/06 RRC)

Deceptions become repetitions
To perpetuate the hurt received.
Never finding peace
But searching all the while
In a style recognized by gangsters cowboys and the like.
It’s an open mic.
Tell me your fears and dreams and then
I’ll share mine
Just like every time.
Except I don’t expect a solution to the problem
I’ve come to love as me,
And what I do and what I see is
Tainted by the sorrow I claim only as my own.
It’s like coming home in the twilight
When everyone else is gone.
Slightly bruised pride purple splashed against the walls
And an echo in the halls,
But though you want to run,
It’s where you need to be.
Please don’t try to take from me
This beast that I have tamed
Even named
For sorrow is sweet,
purposed,
meet
When the leaves have fallen away
And on special gray days
When the flowers mourn
Because they’re not quite as bright
And on those nights when the hurts are remembered.
They’re dying embers,
But child still don’t touch.
Meddle in the fire too much and
You will be burned in the self-same way.
Maybe then we can share this pain.

-Jn

2 comments:

The Red Queen said...

Speechless!

Ramblin' Ed said...

Wow. That was pretty grown up. How did this come out of you?:

Slightly bruised pride purple splashed against the walls

Quite right!