AGAINST THIS SEA OF BILE
1
sometimes
it is not the reason,
sometimes
it's just the words,
or the drive
to scrawl ink on page,
the need
to make these real
2
inverted function,
disemboweled tide,
we are left the scars
of all this damage,
still, within the strangeness
some familiarity resides,
as if by mirrors
or lenses distorted
3
the roots of isolation
erupt today
we watch as milestones
flood to pasts,
unable to act,
frozen in time,
or somehow outside it
in vague exile zones
4
all that is right
within my world
is not enough
to stem the torrent
of wrongs from the mundane;
no matter how sweet a moment is
it can not last
against this sea of bile
5
too much of need
and of demand,
the hours bleed
leaving me drained
unable to effect the change
which would turn the world
and shift the age
in fresh alignment
- Brendan Tripp
05/02/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp