Wednesday, September 23, 2009


I wrote his name in magic marker,
hoping to cast a spell on his mind.
His adoration not the focus of mine,
as I perceived our journey to be a path
which could eclipse reason,
no restraints to bind.

I sketched his face a hundred times,
yet the pencil failed to capture his image right.
In my visions his eyes reflected the firelight
and I could not
get that
on paper.

Slate metamorphic, rhapsodized on one side
Poetic verse devotion, loyal to the plight.

The terminal we departed from for the unison flight,
Hanger of preconceived notions,
incurable, yet contrite.

Like finding a needle in a haystack,
so convinced his train of thought was on track,
But that fallacy was derailed
The rhythm of his tell tale
Didn't beat when it was impaled

By the shards of glass
which made his crass

Like a prism, infinity reflects the light of discretion,
the symmetry of the triangular projection
holding the volume of his dreams,
right angled secession.
clarity of logic refracts the spectrum.

Now my illustrations will go sight unseen,
as I place the enchanted papers between
the pages in my journal
of magic

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