Reflection so pure
Upon still Lake,
But when Pebble falls
The Waters do shake,
And Reflection so pure
At once does it break,
A thousand many pieces
Such a Wave will make,
Then the Pond stills
So far from opaque,
The River does give,
Entrance and then take,
Calm it may seem
Yet all this is fake,
A side not often seen
Only a Pebble can awake.
Saturday, 2 February 2008
FRaGMeNTED wOrDs - L A Ransom
A WHOLE
A TOTAL
A PERFECTION
A FLAWLESS MASTERPIECE INTACT
THEN
FRaGMeNTED
A BREAK
A SUNDER
A REMAINDER
A PIECE OF SOMETHING ONCE COMPLETE
BROKEN
A CHUNK
A FRACTURE
A DIVISION
A PART NOW LEFT TO DECOMPOSE
DIVIDED
A THIRD
A PORTION
A COMPONENT
A DELICATE BEING PULVERISED
HELPLESS
A LINK
A VISION
A MEMORY
A THING NOW OUT OF REACH AND GRASP
FLEETING
A CLUE
AN EXCERPT
A MYSTERY
A PUZZLE PIECE LOST AND SHATTERED
SEPARATED
AN END
A TROPHY
A TROCIOUS ACT
AN ALTER TO A DEMOLISHED SHARD
FINISHED
A TOTAL
A PERFECTION
A FLAWLESS MASTERPIECE INTACT
THEN
FRaGMeNTED
A BREAK
A SUNDER
A REMAINDER
A PIECE OF SOMETHING ONCE COMPLETE
BROKEN
A CHUNK
A FRACTURE
A DIVISION
A PART NOW LEFT TO DECOMPOSE
DIVIDED
A THIRD
A PORTION
A COMPONENT
A DELICATE BEING PULVERISED
HELPLESS
A LINK
A VISION
A MEMORY
A THING NOW OUT OF REACH AND GRASP
FLEETING
A CLUE
AN EXCERPT
A MYSTERY
A PUZZLE PIECE LOST AND SHATTERED
SEPARATED
AN END
A TROPHY
A TROCIOUS ACT
AN ALTER TO A DEMOLISHED SHARD
FINISHED
(Untitled) - Roseanna Freiburghaus
An old man sits at home
Bound to his chair
With wide eyes blazing
At the world in a box
The soothing voice cries out
Splintered by what’s behind words
Sending his heart to despair
The screams of a babe
Sink his legs to jelly
The cackles of the blaze
Shake his foundations
Anger wrenching their minds
The tribe attack
His heart stops
Questions reel
Images show everything yet nothing
At the same time,
How can this be done?
Why? Why? Why? Why?
Sickening to admit that
We’re made of the same
The pit of hatred
Stronger than instinct
Innocence devoured by flames
Ripped from arms
Into the teeth of politics
Shredded to dust once more
The old man weeps
Each tear 50 stones of
Weight that can never be lifted.
Storms of the past forgotten
The rain of today
Forms the lakes of tomorrow
Like tribes on tribes
Like Nazis on London
Like London on Germany
Like Lancasters on Dresden
Around in circles
Until everyone drowns in vomit
Because he flew above
Does that make all the difference?
That he was not the one
To see the flames lick their eyes
That he was not the one
To throw them to dust
That he rode aboveIs that all the difference?
Bound to his chair
With wide eyes blazing
At the world in a box
The soothing voice cries out
Splintered by what’s behind words
Sending his heart to despair
The screams of a babe
Sink his legs to jelly
The cackles of the blaze
Shake his foundations
Anger wrenching their minds
The tribe attack
His heart stops
Questions reel
Images show everything yet nothing
At the same time,
How can this be done?
Why? Why? Why? Why?
Sickening to admit that
We’re made of the same
The pit of hatred
Stronger than instinct
Innocence devoured by flames
Ripped from arms
Into the teeth of politics
Shredded to dust once more
The old man weeps
Each tear 50 stones of
Weight that can never be lifted.
Storms of the past forgotten
The rain of today
Forms the lakes of tomorrow
Like tribes on tribes
Like Nazis on London
Like London on Germany
Like Lancasters on Dresden
Around in circles
Until everyone drowns in vomit
Because he flew above
Does that make all the difference?
That he was not the one
To see the flames lick their eyes
That he was not the one
To throw them to dust
That he rode aboveIs that all the difference?
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