violetred

silly journal...i don't even know what to write.

i used to write a fair amount of poetry, just because i couldn't help myself and it was always on my mind.

but these days it has become, well...sparce.

i haven't written a poem in years. i wonder what happened.

people have been talking about it lately, so i thought i should put one up. it is strangely apropo...


into fourth

october 17, 2001

something like
falling back into
a hammock,
and leaning
miracuously into sunlight...

shifting into fourth--

and rowing closer,
into the heart of some
god.

or,
as if with every
green light,
you are set laughing, and
i am cradled, ever
in your lovely lap.


* * *

yeah, so it dried up inside me...and i assume that drugs and alcohol have filled the space, not that i am complaining

what does it all mean?