Tears of Laughter

the poet shall forever grow towards Foreverness and wordless Words ... ah, for a word which sounds like silence; ah, for thoughts that cut like swords! so this heart may bleed its meaning ... these fingers made to see all the sorrows of its past o yes: pain is the fruit of solitude, mistrust, humiliation and shame; the purple writings of the blinded eyes mere mumblings ... fumbling fingers of the lame : that is the fruit of Life and Love that turned into vinegar ... vinegar and blood alas, words are worthless reverie and ramblings of a rose tattered tattie and empty tautology withered by storms and droughts by poetry and prose that is the tears of laughter dark - the sweet smiles of the crying lark; these lost words wrought in lonely chambers in castles sparked by frozen Light; oh, Word born in a lowly manger! true Hope and resurrected Sight muted words (...) once sparkling gold and silver now discarded ashes, grit and dust the poet silently grows older ... : sprouting still words so green; so soft myra ~~*~~The Poet grows older ... the words wordless ... Written April 15th, 2002 © on Apr 15 2002 11:33 AM PST, Myra Lochner    10 • 0