More War Footage

Souls freed by horror.
More bodies dead then alive.
Chaos, war, madness.

Death’s Density

Death, dense,
Beyond neutron stars.
Black holes where
Nothing escapes
Light itself,
Impotent.

Light, space itself
Warped by the power
Of this empty absence.
All nearby, changed,
Bent, disformed.
Eternity.

Heavenward Cinquain

I know
Staring skyward
Sky’s uncaring coolness
Without emotion, save wonder
Beauty

Nightfall

Night upon wings

Darkened streets, dreamlike

Motion. Blurred sight

Hidden aims.

Both nefarious and innocent.

Life hidden from sunlight.

The angry glare.

Nightbound Words

Racing mind
Fears awakened,
Given voice,
Speaking loudly
Into murky peace of night.

Dreams unrealized,
Yet still dreams.
Voices of neglected
Priorities. Reminding
Me; deepest values.

Empty grave
This frantic life.
Delightful sense of purpose
Untethered to accomplishment.
Illusions of effectiveness.

Self directed rage
Unuseful, empty sounds.
November’s east bound
Wind pushes still,
Fiercely, chilling.

Moments

Flash,
Hand lunges.
Strike!

Momentary grasp for power.
Momentary…

Power touched; flees.
Power’s gone, mist:

Angry vacant god.
Emptiness returns.

Desperation’s emptiness
Resumes its
Ice cold

Fury.

Early Morning Dread

Fragmented beauty,
Soul shards lay motionless
Upon a steel floor.

Night

Darkness lurks upon the farside of my window.
Orange red splotches force through the murk,
Showing much too little.

Too much hidden for those seeking safety.
So much away from the accountability of eyes.
Sometimes selfish longings,
Sometimes the drive to cause pain.

Whether avoiding guilt or capture,
Night’s blanket an ally.

Creativity

Wil Wheaton stated a fantastic idea in the last Radio Free Burrito: do something creative everyday for 31 days. Feeling withered creatively, this seems an excellent course of action. Earlier (this morning), I broke out my Moleskine, grabbed one of my old poetry texts and determined to write from the first form that appeared before me. First on the page was the tanka, cousin to the haiku.

&nbsp&nbspCollective mind
&nbsp&nbspGrowing within our hands, bright
&nbsp&nbspBlast of knowledge, linked
&nbsp&nbspMassive data together
&nbsp&nbspKnowledge not equal wisdom.

Shifting to haiku:

&nbsp&nbspData, data, ow!
&nbsp&nbspBurns my brain, searing knowledge
&nbsp&nbspNot understanding

Lastly, and most challenging, was limerick. Not being in the most humor-centric of moods, I thought that, perhaps, limerick doesn’t need to be funny.

&nbsp&nbspSilliness, sunlight’s love, joyfully
&nbsp&nbspExploring starlit air, blue above sky
&nbsp&nbspInto the park the go,
&nbsp&nbspChild’s play, just fun, sun’s glow.
&nbsp&nbspBuilding, today, a beautiful life of joy