The Silence

Like a wolf crying …

Watching the moon…

I spit my blood from my painful wounds…

There is no cure for my still bleeding state…

There is no pill for my pulsating pain…

I imagine paintings…

I know I do…

This mere creation of my crazy mind…

Brings ache to the system…

A system of bones and flesh…nourished with blood …

Like a birth giving…

Drink…

The WAITING…the TIME…the DAY and the HOUR…

All hand in hand…

Laughing at my trembling desire…

 

“You are all that I have…you are more than my own life…you are so deep inside me…”

 

Yet…patience and wordless moments… the silence and eternal waiting ….make it hard to believe…again…imagining paintings….

anyod anyod
22-25, F
2 Responses Feb 20, 2010

thank you.... it is life....i only write when my being is feeling....i do not do it on purpose...i find it more powerful when verse is written from inside ...brought out ...expanded in an explosion....

YOUR "verse" has VASTLY BECOME MORE COLORFUL!<br />
your WORDS smooth A Motion INTO EFFECT AS NOT theirs before in your poetic voice...<br />
<br />
CONCENTRATION?<br />
You "STEPPED AWAY" and DELIVERED SOMETHING MORE!<br />
<br />
<br />
xo