the three great
mysteries life, love and death compass all our little knowledge borne like jewels is of no advantage in the face of the unknown deep in the heart of the sun the sound of tiny hammers beating on golden anvils ring out in a single wavering note they are pounding out our dreams too vague to make sense of and as fleeting as our lives
23 November 2012
Mysteries
22 November 2012
A Little Blood
a little blood?
well, what did you expect?
every birth is an act of violence
life is bloody, beautiful and short
at night we lay us down to rest
in the morning we shed our dreams
and take our place on the treadmill
the dreadful work begins again
bloody ankles and deadly smiles
men fall as the leaves fall
each is whittled into nothing
by the relentless mechanism
of commercial necessity
an unseen hand wields a final blade
we are enfolded in black wings
and ferried across dark waters
out into the nevermore
.
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