Friday, March 11, 2011


In this place
Lost to all sights and significance
Dormant are the blissful accessories
Of light and sound,

Devoid of all its transcendental majesty
An avalanche is breached, we get a glimpse within
Its systems, its programs, its flowchart of organizational wisdom
But a tale is never spun
Not a single story is ever told
Leaving the observing with a hollow, breaking sound

Much has been courted with
Elements and conjugation of principles
Symbolic restitution of decades old relevance
Blaspheme do the historians commit
Unearthing a cacophony of the non-relational
The inappropriate congregations between valley and peak

Brilliance is the sculptor
God Particle firmly in hand
A canvass without boundary
Paradise of disenfranchised wasteland

And this I suppose is where we reach that peculiar, self inflicting wound
The peculiarity of the Poet inscribing the words for rest upon his burial tomb,
It is a place where solemn contemplation and deep seeded wisdom freely devour, decidedly roam
Enchanted were the primers, who sacrificed their well being for the benefit of strangers to arrive
Non predictable centuries since he lay long since cold,

The truest of poet needs to share, despite his ripping desire to withhold,
For this man, and perhaps this man alone,
Carve he would that single piece, his song he withheld
Yet so much it needed to be heard,
So upon his sarcophagus he would construct,
In this place, this stone shall, once and for all eternity,
Preserve the outline of the man he truly was,
Instead of laying the foundation,
Predicating the groundwork for a coda,
So superior to anything ever he had penned,
 Instead, listen he would, to the heart strings tugging at quivered hands,
Bleeding sweetly, each motion he could command,
 Upon this easel whose sole significance
Will be to mark a final resting place,
 Each scratch he chiseled fresh
 Could be the last etching from his flesh,
So in conclusion he simply wrote:
I pray this all does end with me, with little praise, without abuse,
 And pray I do, this stone consumes each word I’ve ever used

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