by trentm32 » 5/23/2005, 6:24 pm
howdy-doo my fine CM-er pals! I haven't posted in a whiiiiile (been mad busy with that crazy thing called real life! ugggh) I've got a couple of new things I kinda dig...check it...
"wave goodbye to me"
<i>
an avalanche of thoughts
the martyr to my dreams
burning stars, a blackened sky,
and nothing's as it seems
I fall asleep so soundly
with my face turned to the sky
pupils round, see the sound,
with my eyelids open wide
painted snow and mountains
as neckade as the trees
just swaying in the distance
as they wave goodbye to me
</i>
...
"in morning"
<I>
it seems every dream I have
always ends in morning
the sun finding the heavens--
chase my smile away
blinds slice through the daylight
not enough to make it die
always finding my eyes--
to just chase my smile away</i>
...
Kind of got off on a notebook ramble sort of about intuition...this came out...i dig it...
<i>
That feeling. Somewhere low. Lower than the pit of your stomach, miles below the soles of your feet. That deep suspense that something is on the verge of happening. That unspoken knowing that everything is somehow coming to a head. That all of the things that have happened have just been leading you to this moment. And you’re standing on this ledge. Bare feet on cold stone, miles above the earth; toes hanging over the side. Swaying—back and forth, back and forth—just trying to decide if you should do it. Whatever that ‘it’ is.
Empty faces, with every eye full of everything. All the words unspoken, all the things unsaid. The air not quite full of lies; but never really the truth, either. Just the in-between. Always just the in-between. The grey skies and empty mountains. Always just the in-between.
</i>
w00t
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.
<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>