Tuesday, April 29, 2008
-
The Valley of Fear
this sadness is not
of my station, but for the
human condition~ polishing the sword
my thumb begins to quiver
uncontrollably~ four in the morning:
moon will serve as company
through insomnia~ air thick with perfume—
sense of smell desensitized
from tobacco smoke
-
recommend
- recs 0
- give stars
- votes 0
-
share
-
email
- sent 0
Post a Comment
- Back to monkegeist's Xanga Site!
- Note: your comment will appear in monkegeist's local time zone: GMT -05:00 (Eastern Standard - US, Canada)
Comments (1)
In these I sense sorrow at the realization of Life's perdicament. I, also, strangely get the romantic notions of Raymond Chandler's hard bitten detective characters such as Philip Marlow; bitter, tired, but underneath it all still an idealist.
Strange indeed that I know a virtual stranger so well. I think, perhaps, I know you as well, through your art and comments, as most that I know. Funny how that can be.
Be well
I sense in the force you are having a hard time of it, or a harder time of it. I hope all is well, that you remember the impermanence of all things, even woe.
G