Anyway ... here's one from yesterday. I'm still feeling a bit beat up by the Effexor's effects ... but was able to crawl back to the keyboard last night to throw this one together. As always, the big pile o'poems is at http://i.am/btripp ...
EVIL PLACES MADE
wrung through
dark spaces,
dragged into
harsh zones;
we face an obliteration,
standing at the abyss
wondering what
can possibly survive
the connection
is not there,
we can not reach
across the dark,
we run in circles
pent by new walls
now claustrophobic
within our skin
too much change,
too little control;
we are on rafts
in endless seas
beset by storms,
poisoned and tossed,
unable to steer,
unable to locate
these functions collapse,
time-lines crumple;
there are no hours
which remain to act,
there are no structures
able to complete
intentions made
in different worlds
so many fears,
terror is the texture,
the fiber of this place,
every corner,
every nook,
every shadow harbors dread
and we are now defenseless
against those wicked blades
- Brendan Tripp
02/27/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
