Monday, February 28, 2011

Nadir Telescope

I open my eyes to the riots on the street
Up through hope where the highways meet
The fabric of my life torn and incomplete
The cards arrayed at my shackled feet

These men in the city showing only the whites of their eyes
These abuses of power with the proliferation of spies
These children of privilege abusing with lies
These contrails distant roar that dissect the skies

These voices here raised in the disintegration of days
These fences these foils these isolationist ways
These faces on the street whose anxiety betrays
These somnambulant feet that negotiate the maze

These memories of rain on parched lips sky raised
These fields of ochre pattern cracked and overgrazed
These wells and rivers all but memory erased
These feet of clay this sad malaise

I close my eyes and let it slip away
Down through hope where corners fray
The fabric of my life with thoughts in disarray
And the cards will fall just where they may


Yodood said...

So much for hope, can prayer be far behind?

Pisces Iscariot said...

Yodood: Yes, prayer is very far behind ;]

word verification: hymboos

Yodood said...

Good for you.

Harlequin said...

sometimes your work has that amazing raw quality about it that just wails right off the page (or screen, as the case may be). well done.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Yodood: good for me.

Harlequin: I wasn't sure whether this was worth posting - it's raw because it doesn't know what its point is. But hey, quality is never consistent here at The Far Queue :)