i.
Three words can turn the world;
they are unknown until uttered.
Constant tidal repetitions voided;
vocally changed orbits randomize.

Atmospheric climate shifts climb
forefronts of deserts bombarding
driest latitudes with spring rains.
Due coursed sibilant speaking.

ii.
Releasing tensions like butterflies,
re-education breathes life again.
Lives pass borders on living true,
fighting for form or substance.

I'm trying belief before sight,
a stretch that spins rainbows.
Prismatic refractions separate,
while thoughts focus in white.

04/15/2004

Author's Note: I am working on something special for my 1 year pathetic anniversary...'til then I'm just gonna paint with words.

Posted on 04/16/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies