spirals in fine fibres

By indefined

child of emotion 
born only of oneself 
pray not to me alone 
for it dwells aside 
apart from even me 



splinter contact recoil 
the prick that never bleeds 
yet the nerves record impulse 
tremulous as the tremor lies 
in fibrillations of fine fibers 
all a-quiver at the prospect 
of another tomorrow 


there is a pin 
hidden in my mind 
that could never 
quite pop the 
bubble you blow 


condemnation in curls 
spirals around themselves 
what fruits of labor have 
those teeth ever tasted 
they are telling your tasty 
tongue the juice is sweet 
while the tastebuds scream 
in a waterfall crescendo 
that can be heard in 
my own dim past 
yet another relapse 




..//...transmission lost 

run amplifier.exe 

loading amplifier.exe 

commencing signal strength amplification... 

signal strength amplification failed 

please check your mental drivers 
or see a psychiatrist for troubleshooting 

...//..transmission recieved 



something flickers... 
a miniscule image floats 
free of the wreckage 
your face in the depths 

lined in clouded bitterness 
surely the willow weeps 
for naught but this moment 
faded green wearing little 
else but a robe of dusk 
the grass wilts in the 
darkness of such beauty 
butterflies fly free of the jar 
as poignant reminders 
of exquisite memories 
released to the soul 


there is a bottle 
always in my hand 
pity it could never 
quite reach the 
parched lips 


splinter contact withdrawal 
the prick that always bleeds 
the nerves delete an impulse 
tremors in the tremulous lies 
of fine fibers as they fibrillate 
aquiver at all the prospects 
that bring another tomorrow 



man of emotion 
born only to myself 
pray to the solitary 
for it dwells inside 
apart from even you 

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2014 indefined
Published on Tuesday, April 18, 2006.     Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

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