BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

To cut or not to cut ...

Waitaminute .... that sounds like gay porn or something! Anyway, the results are pouring in ... so far we have 1 reader weighing in for keeping the poems up front and easy to read in the Friends List, and 1 reader opining that those drab, depressing scribblings should be shunted off behind the ignominious LJ-cut tag. How do you feel about it?

Frankly, I'd just as well leave them the way they've been, but I do realize that some folks might get tired of that great block of text showing up in their Friends List nearly every day.

Anyway, here's another one! Wheeeee! Actually, this is a GOOD ONE in that it approximates my old style, back when I was a less depressed fellow and more likely to me meddling with mysticism of various sorts in my writing. So, instead of "woe is me", it's just a visionary journey into who knows what. I would be VERY pleased if I could crank out things along this line at least one out of four poems! Oh, yeah, speaking of lots of poems you can find the archives at ... it's not a happy place, but there sure is a lot to read!

                    YIELDING UNTO DARK

                    we have every depth,
                    every darkness,
                    we are submerged
                    in nether states
                    which have no light,
                    which have no hope,
                    no purpose,
                    past descending

                    only elemental forms
                    attain here,
                    no subtlety,
                    no nuance,
                    just the basis
                    of the real,
                    the frame of rock
                    and the outer cold

                    nothing is preserved
                    in modes of growth,
                    only the stasis
                    of the dead
                    in close entombment
                    and shadowed crypts
                    lost beneath the aeons
                    rumored behind dreams

                    we enter through the seams
                    betwixt belief,
                    the edge of credulity
                    where reason falters
                    and doctrine obtains sway,
                    the uncharted points
                    where inner vision ceases
                    and dull compliance reigns

                    what walls bear the traces
                    of these fallen realms?
                    no parallels survive
                    between our worlds,
                    no maps are found
                    to cross that void,
                    and yet our pall
                    forever shades your day

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

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