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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The bonewind speaks remiss of bone Always pulling up and headed towards the foam When the mermaid skins were like scales in signature Falling off aenome or when the sea was our home A man is awkward in his body looking at the sky, he begins to callibrate the waxpull of Daedulus, winged towards the narrow shelf of the wind, pulled up to glance and speculate When the Seasons should change, why they had ceased to change spring into winter or fall descending into lime or tangerine the sasspool punks skating July like hot raindrops Of Lemon Sugar Candy With their Mohawk paintings, their sundial porches Hit the Video with a privilidge so positive Even Dali couldn't surrender his Vision to the Lord The Surreal Elephants dancing tragically in the Wind in the Bonewind that had started somewhere lost Some place Deep in the Forests of Lebanon or Antigua Or maybe the tragedy of Dawn was no Infinite Tragedy or Sea of Memory with the Unwelcome Sun reminding us of the long shadow we once cast Against the Dim Chaos, the garden of Remorse The Hopeless Treason Against God and his Own Once two, but not two of light Only shadows, like shadows longing for light Cleaved in Stone within the Wall of the Cave Not desicatted to Gleam Brass or break the Distance from Virgin Night But Cast in New Eyes to see more clearly now The path of Travails and the Raptors Ascent Incredible eagles through the veil and Hellbent Hell of the Moon the station and the sent The ones who knew the devils hand, what was borrowed, what was lent Daedulus looked and there was no one left Kept Flying up over and away the bereft Casting the Prism with its Diurnal Motion and radiant Breast The spectral eye spectared by the passing of worlds Into their own unknown path of mysterious orb and Crest From Enchanted spins to who knows but where the chaos Goes Out hitting into longcast Rays, the specks of Crystal Stretching the lavender opiates with long eyes As celestial clouds well up with obsidian aether Making a haphazard flight out of Nightengales in the ForestSky But now the Sun is not out once again the quiet of Night its black cunning and whisper of Fright not divided, but glistening -- extending --growing in Might
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