Making queer little lists
of crazy things,
you hope to mark your light
among a billion other
glowing specks.
Eccentricity speaks.
And is sought after.
Gauge into your skin
shapes that are
you and you
alone.
Chisel a place in their world
with ticks
off paper: achievements
we hope will lift
us above the rest.
Find a niche,
crawl into it;
stay put, heads
between knees.
Scared of falling, changing
ending.
And then one day,
cease to be.
Yes...
ReplyDeleteSound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
ReplyDeleteTo all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
~Sir W. Scott
Now wouldn't I strive, even though I'll be cold one day?
Cheers,
Blasphemous Aesthete
Cease not in soul but only in mind.
ReplyDeleteLet not the heart stop while the marks remain.
The tattoo is permanent as is the spirit's endurance.
And so it must live.
And live on.
Strive, as Blasphemous said.
your blog is so trippyy. <3
ReplyDeleteRhett, =)
ReplyDeleteBlasphemous Aesthete,those are great lines. =)
D2, wow! That was amazing stuff! *awed*
ReplyDeleteMoonie, aww, <3 back at you! =)
ReplyDelete