Thursday, January 19, 2006

a little rose petal for your bedside

Nocturne for a Soprano

It's not my heart I feel in my throat
Whenever you deign to glance
On a lost companion --
One of better days.
Instead I feel his liver
And bilious anger coursing through
When we have all found our way...
Will we yet remain lost too?

I, child, am in the proverbial candy shop.
Discouraged by my elders
From sampling the goods arrayed above
Stacked haphazardly on translucent shelves
They smell so sweet, perhaps just a taste...
But I am commanded to refrain.
Would the best man try this well?

Every childish misconception
May never be erased.
I spoke to Pan on the subject
He said that time is not given
By the alligator's clock.
But it is given by sweet needles
That thread us to our shadows.
Will I ever find a shadow?

Shall you dream about
What you will never be allowed to touch?
The choicest morsals
Are out of my reach - forever.
But sometimes our lives last longer.

Your judgement is not wanted
But still I understand.
Our roles are not so laid out,
That we can shift the duties around.
But sopoforics are recommended
Whenever I step lightly.
Whole lives concealed in a single wor(l)d.
You conceal them too.

The childish sadness descended
"He cries at the strangest things."
The thought of every day
Brings a bone-weariness
Exhaustion cannot be tamed -
It finally re-asserts itself,
The earth begins to slip.
But who can blame such a one
Weren't you ever hungry yourself?


DoctorAnonymous
09:18 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home