And another ...
I've been listening to all those Electric Hellfire Club CDs that came in the other day ... I'm amazed that they're from Kenosha, WI ... you'd think L.A. or somesuch! Pretty cool stuff, if WIDELY varying in style album-to-album. I still think the best thing that came in that order was Sin City by the Genitorturers ... hope their other stuff is as hot as that album!
Anyhoo ... here's the last of the poems from April ... I got 20 poems done in the month ... I used to write 21/month in my 250/year days and that makes me feel good. I still think I'm shooting for 200 for 2002, but if I keep pulling 20 poem months I may have to tweak that up and make a big push in the second half of the year.
UNABLE TO RETRIEVE THE LIGHT
the thinnest line,
the narrowest edge,
we must balance here
to cross the abyss;
we have no aid,
nor rail or rope
in wind and tremor,
chaos and fire
how many times
the dark's consumed
our spirit, our soul,
dropped into that chasm
plummeting to demise,
how many times
have we been lost
unable to retrieve the light?
exposed again,
we try to stay
upon that blade
step for step,
inch by inch,
seeking some way
through the storm,
out of the nightmare
we can not cede
reign to this world,
we can not let
the onslaught break
the inner voice,
the rebel seed
which stands apart,
on higher ground
our battered form,
our damaged mind,
must once again
rejoin the fight;
how far the dusk
extend the night
before the deeper dark
overwhelms us?
- Brendan Tripp
04/30/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
Anyhoo ... here's the last of the poems from April ... I got 20 poems done in the month ... I used to write 21/month in my 250/year days and that makes me feel good. I still think I'm shooting for 200 for 2002, but if I keep pulling 20 poem months I may have to tweak that up and make a big push in the second half of the year.
UNABLE TO RETRIEVE THE LIGHT
the thinnest line,
the narrowest edge,
we must balance here
to cross the abyss;
we have no aid,
nor rail or rope
in wind and tremor,
chaos and fire
how many times
the dark's consumed
our spirit, our soul,
dropped into that chasm
plummeting to demise,
how many times
have we been lost
unable to retrieve the light?
exposed again,
we try to stay
upon that blade
step for step,
inch by inch,
seeking some way
through the storm,
out of the nightmare
we can not cede
reign to this world,
we can not let
the onslaught break
the inner voice,
the rebel seed
which stands apart,
on higher ground
our battered form,
our damaged mind,
must once again
rejoin the fight;
how far the dusk
extend the night
before the deeper dark
overwhelms us?
- Brendan Tripp
04/30/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp