Few people realize that man has already attained immortality; it's merely been abused, forgotten, and renamed Writing. -Brian Egan

Monday, August 30, 2010

Maybe Astrology

To say nothing of flowers, well anyway,
It’s as simple as biology or biorhythyms or
bio bio bio
life
Or maybe it’s the conversation
maybe astrology
but probably not

In admiration of strength, I
build up the castle walls higher
and higher until the world grows dark...
and the world grows dark
and cold, I think, but who’s to say
it’s just a challenge anyway
a test of person, test of will
I hope you’ll wait on the other side,
I’m almost through

Is there anything else that should be said?

The universe is standing still and I hear
in the darkness there’s the toll of a bell
crisp and clear and
where is it coming from, and
why?
All places, or none.
What do I want out of this life of mine?
Do good, I guess, and good done, die.
Or more. Your thoughts?
My head is swimming
body treads
or drowns
or
I don’t know
It’s love, you know as well as I
there’s little else worth my time
that’s how we say goodbye
to, at least, the day
what do we say to the night?
hello
or
halt! who goes there?