Apocalypse, Now?

Confused, unsound, unsound…

God!

Out there,

Power…Ideals...

God, 

Oh God,

The better angles of our nature.

Have we reached it?

Have we gone over the edge?

The point of no return?

She's Gone Away

Shes gone away--
away, away
The trees the leaves the breeze keep pace
Shes run away--
 away, away
and I'm lost in quicksand

wait for me
                       Don't leave me running strange

Feel so close
     Trapped:
too far to the left
too far to the right

Another heart like
a timpani drum
beating ground
eyeing the path

FORWARD

For words are thoughts we play through our lips and through

Our heads and with them we do

Recall and recite and replay and invite

When talking-telling singing-spelling

Alone or in the crowd, to ourselves or aloud

Rambling out like a busy street corner or

Discoursed like slicing sounds through well hung air

Come and see

I hope you tread light
and tiptoe with me,
the cat carved paths
of mystery,
and traipse the
fog filled fields
of fiction and of fantasy

Yarm the Leshed Cormely,

This is a place for nonsense and unreality, don't be afraid to let curiosity lead you over the edge and fall very far down the rabbit whole and accept the unaccepted, because there be monsters here and mysteries too and words that spill from me to you.

so lets delight to get her in the unconcious and the stream of mind and thought and wordful wonderful lands that we will create discover here!


J>D>SPADE