Post by Juan Castrocafe on Sept 11, 2006 16:25:33 GMT -6
she ran down the street,
like a wild fire in her eyes,
her hair like strong thin ropes holding the ugly lions back,
she ran, like a gazelle on some subsaharan plain
and I in the meadow of my contentment,
never saw this unique human again..
she stopped a fight, between a man or two,
stopped a fight, with all she could do,
quietly the door closed shut, quietly she exited out
where there once was violence,
now, not even a shout..
she had tossled my hair, she was divine,
i some dwarf in the intermittent sunshine,
she, a giant of unspeakable beauty and form...
she listened to me, caressed my bruises,
wiped the blood from my lip..
laughed at the seriousness of all that I was so well equipped,
she smiled and held my hand for a moment,
shocked at the little boy and what he could do
what he had done..this day in the rays
of an intermittent sun..
fire in his eyes like a storm barren of promise
or forgiveness, full raging depth of abandon
and for one short interval in passing,
this chocolate bisque doll of so amazing structure
turned the world with a smile..
even the way her hair draped over her face
I was too young to appreciate all that she was..
she was amazing...
so long I stared out windows at her..
so long there was peace in the projects...
words like softness were spoken within the doors
and the moment of what ever was so urgent,
swept violently past me with only the
glint of a puff of a butterfly's flutter..
eating saltines with peanut butter...
cheese and crackers and swinging our clackers
like some Argentean cowboy with our bolos,
thinking perhaps the target was a kangaroo
to come jumping from behind the big green transformer...
the bullet made its marking known, and know why he
did what he did to her and her sister,
he was not a kind man, we still had to call him mister
or outrun his cruelty as he would swing and swagger..
she ran out of the door after the bang,
and we knew, something in the silent, intermittent moments of a subsaharan kangaroo farm
just stopped and it got back to real..
not much to think..not much to feel..
she ran down the street
with the fear's fire in her eyes
and I could only hold to what held me
and how I felt...cops come,
we said nothing, cops left
and still there is something, missing,
in the end of a day
when what can really please,
is still hanging out
eating saltines and cheese,
hoping to have hair tossled once again..
and in hindsight the gentlest of creatures
can be turned in some ways
that they are not themselves
because of another's hands in yet more other's lives
she is still running down that street,
one of the most beautiful sights I have ever known,
but I cannot help,
in this way, I have never been shown...
I cannot make right..
what I did not do wrong..
but it is still unfair..
there are just some things that do not belong..
she ran down the street,
a wild fire in her eyes,
the promise of such a radiant life..
left unrealized....
john moseley
like a wild fire in her eyes,
her hair like strong thin ropes holding the ugly lions back,
she ran, like a gazelle on some subsaharan plain
and I in the meadow of my contentment,
never saw this unique human again..
she stopped a fight, between a man or two,
stopped a fight, with all she could do,
quietly the door closed shut, quietly she exited out
where there once was violence,
now, not even a shout..
she had tossled my hair, she was divine,
i some dwarf in the intermittent sunshine,
she, a giant of unspeakable beauty and form...
she listened to me, caressed my bruises,
wiped the blood from my lip..
laughed at the seriousness of all that I was so well equipped,
she smiled and held my hand for a moment,
shocked at the little boy and what he could do
what he had done..this day in the rays
of an intermittent sun..
fire in his eyes like a storm barren of promise
or forgiveness, full raging depth of abandon
and for one short interval in passing,
this chocolate bisque doll of so amazing structure
turned the world with a smile..
even the way her hair draped over her face
I was too young to appreciate all that she was..
she was amazing...
so long I stared out windows at her..
so long there was peace in the projects...
words like softness were spoken within the doors
and the moment of what ever was so urgent,
swept violently past me with only the
glint of a puff of a butterfly's flutter..
eating saltines with peanut butter...
cheese and crackers and swinging our clackers
like some Argentean cowboy with our bolos,
thinking perhaps the target was a kangaroo
to come jumping from behind the big green transformer...
the bullet made its marking known, and know why he
did what he did to her and her sister,
he was not a kind man, we still had to call him mister
or outrun his cruelty as he would swing and swagger..
she ran out of the door after the bang,
and we knew, something in the silent, intermittent moments of a subsaharan kangaroo farm
just stopped and it got back to real..
not much to think..not much to feel..
she ran down the street
with the fear's fire in her eyes
and I could only hold to what held me
and how I felt...cops come,
we said nothing, cops left
and still there is something, missing,
in the end of a day
when what can really please,
is still hanging out
eating saltines and cheese,
hoping to have hair tossled once again..
and in hindsight the gentlest of creatures
can be turned in some ways
that they are not themselves
because of another's hands in yet more other's lives
she is still running down that street,
one of the most beautiful sights I have ever known,
but I cannot help,
in this way, I have never been shown...
I cannot make right..
what I did not do wrong..
but it is still unfair..
there are just some things that do not belong..
she ran down the street,
a wild fire in her eyes,
the promise of such a radiant life..
left unrealized....
john moseley
? Nir.
