set's Blog

Category writings

May 11, 2008

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.
I never had a selfless thought since I was born.
I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:
I want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn.

Peace, re-assurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,
I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:
I talk of love --a scholar's parrot may talk Greek--
But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.

Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.
I see the chasm. And everything you are was making
My heart into a bridge by which I might get back
From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.

For this I bless you as the ruin falls. The pains
You give me are more precious than all other gains.

C S Lewis

c, s, lewis, as, the, ruin, falls

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in bloom

April 26, 2008

they come they leave sometimes they stay awhile
linger on me a bit longer and make me feel desire
for these unending yearnings are numb from over use

oh please be flesh join me entwine in my whirling realities
these thoughts they come they stay they leave and leave me numb

stay and teach me your beauty or are you restrained by time
are you always in bloom and free from nothingness
let your touch lend me a scar

ill pay you can have all of my weightlessness
these thoughts they come they stay then leave and leave me numb

comatose

writings

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untitled 2

April 25, 2008

i serve what is right
it is my companion
it is my master
it is my slave
it is my tormentor

it serves me right
it is my companion
it is my master
it is my slave
it is my tormentor

im just a human being
nothing but a man
the burden of it all
is too much for just these two hands

i am a human being
nothing less than a man
the burden of it all
should be on these two hands

and so because of it i am begging in all the gates of heaven
and so because of it i am standing tall in all the ends of the earth

writings

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untitled

April 20, 2008

the sheets are blemished and stained and her sandal broke a mirror
scattered to pieces into the red bedroom floor
redenned by the cascading blood from the bed where she lays still and with gaps and been consumed for the pleasure of the sound and sight of desperation that thrilled the blood

the guilt and i are making love and she watches eyes wide open
two chisels deepened into my torso

how beautiful her face was when express with hopelessness
and from her eyes the tears are still streaming to her face

the curtains dance with the wind as she slowly turning pale
empathy compels and its pleasure once again and again and again

comatose

writings

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