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in a scorched red building
on the thirteenth floor
see the ten candles sliced
watch as they drop down more
out the window a new hill
wasn’t there the day before
(wasn’t there the day before)
after pilots set their gaze
through the blackened night
death-grip on a promise
eyes frozen on site
out the window another pile
tell me now are you still right?
(are you still right?)
charging for the gates
tens of thousands of men
taste of fire and blood
drop to the hills again
all the faces blinded
bit by the dogs that guide them
seeth at the dogs that bind them
throw the flowers to the soil
they’ll never grow
see the luna moths congregate
decimate
affiliate
then burn in the flames
simple ones to tame
belly-up in the lake
no weapon but the knife in his back
belly-up in the river
blue with the cold shiver
slivers of his spine
scattered along the shore
with pieces of his “holy” mind
and the sacred child
it’s all just rust and coal
you can see the cursed depth
of everything that won’t be left
rust and coal
stop beside the road
see the black plumes rise
sever the cloudless skies
and mark the stones with peaceful lies
sending them back
to the arms
of America

Copyright L.M. 2008.  (written May 10th, 2008.).

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Serious Reflection

back on the isles
a confusing white mess
a figurehead files
off her silvery tress
standing up straight
never meant taking aim
in sinking her plait
you avoid taking blame
she walks along, slow
with a bird on each hand
her tumultuous glow
mirrors water on sand
and this do you cross
with your opening light
upon the wave’s toss
in the soft silken sight
your pining betrays you
as you spy from afar
your pining betrays you
as you gaze at her star
your pining betrays you
too distracted to note
your pining betrays you:
her locks are afloat

   

   

Copyright L.M. 2007.