Saturday, December 10, 2011


Crickets crashing upon corroding biers
Softly swaying to coarse lit tears
Fireflies light the way
On this premature voyage to immortality

Sanity and sanctity
Positioned just so,
Focusing upon Inherent flaws bred through woe
Of man and man, of man and beast

Different tones play upon,
Each and all, the cords of voice

The quality in chosen words
The action becoming of the strangest verbs
Empathy comes at the oddest stops
Visions of visions shared once but lost

Yet crickets chirped
Just the same
Until, of course, the winter came


  1. Ending in rhyme, that is never a crime and always makes for a fun time with your chime. Those cricketts do seem to play so sublime, as many wish they'ed suck on a lime. With the fireflies and immortatlity I thought of stars in their prime, those quality chosen words are sometimes worth no more than a dime. Visions of visions was a fun wordplaying climb and now I'll stop before dragging myself through the grime.

  2. Cool metaphor on our constant state of noise and for-cause. It brings to mind, we've been like this for a long time and still the same kind of seasons of up and downs still come.