Sunday, August 15, 2010

sludge and mud

images playing upon the walls
of mind
create frames of disaster
for emotional
burn the wicker of the dynamite
and blood shall splatter
upon flowers
of love and innocence.
who believes you?
who cares with a genuine smile?
dare to find out?
masks and pretensions do
clog the drainages pipes
and valves of the heart
and make one insane...
bring the torch
and enlighten the mind
on how to cook chicken
or asparagus soup
or something weird like
Plato's Symposium...
hunting for love
like fowls in a dark night
or owls for that matter
tearing mice with hooked beaks
as burnt flesh screech
for grace, humanity, mercy, mercy, mercy....
the lambs are being shred
on the feasting table, with love
and spicy tenderness,
while the ewe waits
to be milked by the babe...
Grace? Love? Tenderness?
the night awaits
to pounce on you and chew you up