(concieved 12.27.03)
3rd eye
dream visions
reality on sound systems
and digital screens//
forced into
tapping
potential potential
i'd rather leave alone//
there's a finger on my life
don't know whose
...or who'd care enough
to pay that much attention//
books full of letters
letters make words
words make thoughts
paper universe
falliable malleable
capable of decay//
organically grown
streams of consciousness
running out of pens
leaking ingenuity
or maybe just
the narcissitic musings
of a wannabe nubian//
i think
my locs need a few inches
before i'm truly authentic//
or was i real
before all that//
sometimes i can't remember
...there's a lot i can't remember
the pages do that for me
making the price of paper
more than fair//
i need more music
i keep finding my way
out of the forest
the sounds should
hide me longer//
and i should open these books more often//
if i'm not going to meditate
communion of penstrokes
and keyboard clacks
are my only hope//
--if salvation even matters anymore.
(c) 2004 l.a.m.
No comments:
Post a Comment