organisation was lacking during the events inspiring this...disappointment resulted
"Under conditions of tyranny it is far easier to act than to think"- Hannah Arendt
Jumped straight in hey,
Deep sea diver foraging
Venting my lungs
To go back down
Emerge with droplets glistening.
An hourglass just broke
And you woke up
Nightmare, not dream
It was written on the wind,
In the way the stars stopped shining,
How no more they seemed to appeal
To the inner lost worlds you held in your chambers
You said you should not come
That the night before could have sealed
The space now leaking like a gas pump
Displaying prices way too high.
Thoughts are not enough
I need you to make me feel,
To penetrate the leather
To pepper bullets in the steel.
Beige lattice framing
Tin sheets overhead
A maid gathering what she has
A train-track with no end.
So smash terracotta,
Hear the grate coming
Music to ears not yet deaf
But very nearly quietened
By the lull of your heart
You long to silence
The drone you're yet to ignore
Everything continuously on play.
Can time promise the impossible?
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 469 times
Written on 2006-09-02 at 03:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Changing Rooms
"Under conditions of tyranny it is far easier to act than to think"- Hannah Arendt
Jumped straight in hey,
Deep sea diver foraging
Venting my lungs
To go back down
Emerge with droplets glistening.
An hourglass just broke
And you woke up
Nightmare, not dream
It was written on the wind,
In the way the stars stopped shining,
How no more they seemed to appeal
To the inner lost worlds you held in your chambers
You said you should not come
That the night before could have sealed
The space now leaking like a gas pump
Displaying prices way too high.
Thoughts are not enough
I need you to make me feel,
To penetrate the leather
To pepper bullets in the steel.
Beige lattice framing
Tin sheets overhead
A maid gathering what she has
A train-track with no end.
So smash terracotta,
Hear the grate coming
Music to ears not yet deaf
But very nearly quietened
By the lull of your heart
You long to silence
The drone you're yet to ignore
Everything continuously on play.
Can time promise the impossible?
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 469 times
Written on 2006-09-02 at 03:06
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
CC |
Saga |
Texts |
by Caila IhleLatest textsOperataHotshot Sleet Parade Hotplate Hands Trivial Flare-Ups |
Increase font
Decrease