Often trees are conductors of the absolute, the sidereal cuss
eternity. the blow escapes the rehab and into the fire as known
but
lost coupons short of your toaster of existence. the mind needs consciousness,
consciousness does not need mind. Bon Voyage.. when the body revolts within itself, and parts battle
parts,
it's the last revolution, the last pogo, follow the few that
have wisdom, don't let it deceive with knowledge, the brass ring of annihilation, you'll be recognized by a chip, and maybe it will be all that's left..

Monday, October 13, 2014

Seth Howard

THE LONG HALLWAY

Strands of light threading through time
I would sit at times and watch the light filtering in
Through darkness, dreams seemed that way, didn’t they
Floating through fictions of undiscovered truth



Stars that blanket the skies, I slip away
And the hallway is longer than I ever cared to traverse



At times I would sit threading time through light
Drifting darkness seemed a forgotten dream, the truths
I found in fiction became, even more strange



Stars slipping away in strands, a blanket of time
Halfway there was never good enough
When the hallway extends the way it does, stretching out
Dubious in the dark, dank air and fictions floating
Night was longer than I ever cared to know



Disparaged by the shadows, discarded with the clock
Time, I knew no longer, extending into strands threading through
Light, shades of eternity for a time outnumbered
I numbered exceptions of past recalled on one hand



Strands of stars slipping through the ceiling of my mind
Wish that I could go back to the way things were
Things I wish that go back could never stand as truths



And so I find myself here, in a halfway house of fallen stars
The vision that blanketed my sight seemed never to break away



The shadows, the discarded clock, time no longer
Would thread through ceilings dank and dubious
Cards dispersed about the table
Shards of a broken bottle scattered at my feet

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