burying starseeds
corner of clark and kent
sometimes. no, actually all the time, i wonder what it is like to just light up a paper angel and just mull over acrid smoke and degenerate with vapid rumination. the momentous lift is like a funereal salvation; for a few seconds you felt invincible, and later, you falter into a crumbling heap of tears. the combination of both, with the full consciousness of such a thought billowing and coursing through your veins, lifts you up and lets you fall into the nadir of melancholy. the wings of your paper angel goes up in flames and falls as ashes on your ashen face.
but sometimes, such a respite may be all i have. i've had enough of paper angels going up in smoke in my face. paper angels of dreams. paper angels of people. paper angels of my ownself. paper angels, of faith. all it took, was a strange moment of fascination, an ephemeral moment of wonderment; and a fall into tenebrous moroseness.
six aspirin
when johnny rzeznik tells me that i'm living in a world that i'm best forgotten, i think about
whether i'm a joke and nobody's gonna listen to the one small point i know they've been missing around here. every few seconds i pinch myself and tell myself i am self-delusional. but i wake up and no, i'm still here. my solar plexus is still not impaled.
under zenith
and maybe i am. after all a few zillion atoms simply is not definitive of what the nature of existence. there is really too much more to be interacted with before i can come up with a sensible link to this state of delusion. or disillusion, for that matter. from what, i know not.
copper moon
somebody told me that it would be all fine if i will myself and let go. be not proud, and show interest. years of practising physiognomy on practially everyone i meet to decipher puzzles and learn the best way to encrypt myself. and when all is not well i turn away and face the copper moon. but i'm wearing out a lonely glow because the warmth of staring at the copper moon can only last so long. but i have nothing else to hold on to. nursing liquid dutch courage for the heart may just be the only comforting thing left in this world. its a cheap gold. but at least it shines.