dd oh but I am not just alive, my eyes all full of light, my
ears all full
of thunder, my body tries in vain to dance, my mind all full of blunder.
I
try to form the words of silence, my mind bends back upon itself to
unfold
the many ways that I can not do the many things that I have never seen.
No
gift can be given except for giving back all to you that you want I
will give
my sorry stack. What gift could I make for you and with what
skill when all
I have is a need for you to need me still. Bitter is the one
when broken are
the grapes. Therefore two lines of wood making an intersection
brings forth
the pain in a paint of blood... remember the crucifixion held tight
in the
hands that try to break me...yeah they crucify me to save me from
crucifixion... what you find for yourself, a rag, I find myself a robe.
Alone I find myself more dead than dying, almost a god, almost a devil
but
she is the princess of my impossible, the music with my burden.
She is as
special as a snowflake in the desert falling ...binding a bandage of
flesh
onto the open wound of spirit. I find flaw clings to my flesh as to
dew to
the rose. So . . .sleep she is the only lover I take to my bed.
Copyright 1999 Ashley "The Mad Poet"
Used with permission