| SEARCH SEARCH THROUGH THE CLUTTER IN MY HEAD AND TELL ME IF YOU FIND ANYTHING WORTH SAVING. The only music I hear is all around in haze of liquid sleeplessness it shimmers in my eyes. I lust after random silences. Silence with the essence of liquid. My lust moves me to an absolute stillness as crimson melts into morning's sky. My prerequisite is still a raucous lust for life. SEARCH THROUGH THE CLUTTER I have a confession to make. You're like chicory weed; when your petals fan out the sky loses face. You're erratic and wonderful, like the rainbow pools of gasoline as your curves whisper languidly, softening winter tears. Every day I see you smiling. If you could read my mind. What if? SEARCH Waiting for the sun to leave me stranded again, it's slowly drifting out to sea. Slowly reckoning, trance-like state of grace. I am stuck here moves to vivid dreams in crimson- purple tides creeping through the cracks of my life. Tears fall from the clouds to wash away sand castles of pride and run dry over mountains so smooth down to my place on the sea while a new born sun plays in fresh dew. TELL ME… I vividly remember the darkest hour before the sunlight rose. The sky is a rich and endless place to live when light fizzles into darkness. The crescent moon above stares frowning at the earth as an eagle cuts the wind with a frivolous cry. One of these days, momma bird, IF YOU FIND ANYTHING— Rhythm and beat of icy words pound across my desert; stamp out impressions too blunt to form a liquid line. Anger rolls beneath chilled seas, as above, the atmosphere of happiness is slowly being driven out by towering thunderheads. My brain fizzles from ambient noise and I'm drowning in the violent waters with only my hopes and dreams to keep me afloat. Brick by brick the wall tumbles down. HAVE YOU FOUND ANYTHING WORTH SAVING? GIA poets July 2, 1997 |