Waves of misfit understandings

Tuscan oranges

Passion demanding

Searing pain to soothe all sins

Like melting rain drops on your skin

 Hot-bright desire

Enshrouded in blue

Misted by gleaming

Lessons in “Truth”

 “Muted as a globed fruit” am I

Said Macliesh to the pear

To us, time’s nothing more than





 Torn fabric

Fragments of pieces

As dark is to light




“begin” The fight or flight

 And ecstasy is a step below

The rhythm we have always known

Where motion is so expeditious

It’s preordained that you will miss it.

MysticWriter MysticWriter
36-40, F
2 Responses Feb 8, 2007

You have it kid. Keep it up for those who dream but still can not put them to words.

from your pain is born such beauty and such unrequited hunger is passions drive for your quick pen.Whilst part of what we percieve comes through our senses from the ob<x>ject before us, another part(and it may be the larger part)always comes out of our own mind. James Joyce<br />
This then, makes merry echoes in my mind. . <br />
Kudos<br />