Just more Writers' Guild work |
Jan 22 Boxes of paranoia (paradoxes) Cruelty's pity Theory of revolution Boxes of paradoxes A little cracked, your logic I follow your dry riverbed Upstream to the fountain's source Dehydrated thoughts packed away for safe keeping You've hit a dry spell But some part, a burrowing creature Ferrets these away for a rainy day When thoughts grow moist and lush In tangles, jungles, mingles with Steam and fantasy, the deep throated lusty Call of your multicolored muse Radiance upon radiance upon decadence upon decay That follows the toorapidgrowth of the season But detritious thoughts feed the stuffs of new life And without them, the desert The dustbowl dreaming in a riverless bed Escher would be proud The haphazard hazards that litter your mind Defy gravity, sanity, brevity and logic Box upon boxes, with labels unclear Printed clean on each face, the purpose of each To define its contents This method of madness confounds Further light does less to repel and more to create Hazy shadows, the boggling angles Of each stack crack and fracture The lines schizophrene Bisect, intersect, reflect and distort The Truth Is too foreign a concept Stark realities find no solace here Dualities pass through prisms To fall dizzy into dichotomies That pool together on the floor in puddles that drip from the ceiling and splash gray onto grey boxes with leaky edges and clear defined lines do little to order the chaos they create |