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the heat
weaves endlesssss fibers
thick firmly stretched
across and around
makes it hard to walk

a bubble on the verge of its bursting
full of hesitation those rainclouds
the earth scorched anticipating its kiss
she says
[as if she was heard]

caught in between
oh this fragile shell of meat and calcium
does the entity live within?
is it radiated by adenosine triphosphate
to be rebounded by hesitant clouds
the journ to supernovae envained?

Invoke the spirit I
excise the singular heart
left to rot
a walking rebel of Entropy

the many selves
the other selves
burrow under thoughts
not their own
clinging to promises
their hopes disowned
oh futile madness
impotent hardness bashed against logic
against spirit

in this heat those selves
lost devoured by Mob

the scorched earth screams for fluid courage
to seep into her cracks
to fill her dry wells
to drown ignorance and hate

yet she combusts - still as death

where are our creations?
left too long in the furnace
they do shine but are soft to the first
scathing blush of diamond eyes
tallow those GODS

we are candlemakers

"to beat swords into plowshares"
was their dream
the earth would only dare to elucidate
that our folly has run deeper

stop that talk
"are you afraid to think?"
they cried
out loud
to a mound of hungry flesh

the heat
makes it hard
to walk

july 4th, 2001
tell you later
lustrum Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2001   Writer
of course, mari ;) (Wink)

your i is bound inside somewhere, and after you combust and implode one becomes the supernova. and the spirit and heart; are they not bound too? bah, of course not. who needs this flesh? not i!, well yes i do, but we are not simply that, in fact we are not that at all. excise the heart -- you need it not to sustain your spirit.

and the GODS and the selves and the flesh and the earth, they are all illogical. your i is all that makes sense, but even that is tricky, and after pondering makes no sense at all. still, it is you. strip it all away and we are left with something we can not comprehend. that's the grandeur of it. what *is* behind it all? compounds and composures and compost, of sorts.

i like this work. it is brilliant. poke those telluric walls and leave not one question unturned! bravura, ;) (Wink)

Rushing towards singularity.
locussolus Featured By Owner Jul 6, 2001
the heat does make it hard to walk. Nice poem here, long and complex, but it all fits together. Is really good. there is more here than Im seeing though, will have to read again.

miss-conception Featured By Owner Jul 5, 2001
Heat! they bathed me today.
i wondered the same thoughts,
over a conversation, and answered
"Are you afraid to think?"
i did, nervously, playing with
beaded chain throughout.

are we really
merely sovereign nimble mortals
walking over messages
and messengers,
stumbling in dark heat?

tell me how i could reach you,
conjurer of images,
shaman of poetic spurts,
a believer, a survivor.~

(i'm confused, within this Dive)

in private cadence of thoughts,
i triumph over the heat, and she
reaches a hanky to dry the tears inside,
remnant of yesterdays
soaking in flooded cave.

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Submitted on
July 4, 2001
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