i awake to the arival of a new night,
hidden somewhere behind the light's
source, shades of black and blue
blend and twist into something untrue
something....
nothing...
as clear as the muddied water of the floods
that washed you out of your sacred home
you were left hanging on a tree on the far edges of the woods
praying the anwers you've hidden remain unknown...
unkown is...
rediscovered...
along with the truth that lies burning in your funeral pyre...
only the weeping widows of your lesbian affairs suffer the kiss of this fire...
you were something...
you were nothing
you will be remembered by the shadows that pissed on your fire...
shhhhhh.....
goodnight...my widow...the owls are watching
i watch myself as i walk away

so you guys can understand my viewpoint in this poem...perspective is amazing
...this is a ghost wishing his wife a farewell on her tombstone...she is not
present, because she had no soul...but he treats her as a dead ghost...
something...nothing...that can't haunt him anymore....thanks..i am looking
for some poets to write with...email me at bnoyzegiven@hotmail.com, and
give me some feedback...thanks...out...
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cryptic and strange fruit grow in tejas... lar
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Bnoy.. am i reading this right... a woman is killed by a flood and ends up in a tree.. she was a closet lesbian and the secret goes with her to the grave...fill me in on the piss and the ghost part eludes me.. as does the "husband's" take on the whole deal. have i got it right ?lar
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Bnoy..up to the part that defines gender I figured that is was a kind of neo-barabbas thing it reads better for me stopping at rediscovered I like the shadows pissing on the fire stuff though Jake
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you were close boyz, very close boys
but you must seek to see a little further
to understand the thoughts of bnoyz
because in tejas, the heat is murder.
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chris you still amaze me. your writing has come a long way since your days
of virtue, i'd say. somehow, i think the widow's soul is not nonexistant
but deaf, and you say more with your ellipses than words. . .dangerous.
i'm glad somewhere in that insane childhood of yours you learned to share.
love, sky