I sat in a soothing, early morning rain
to quietly court my troubled thoughts
where has the initial purity of challenge gone
well
not many clues have I
perhaps
life drown somewhere down river mid stream
and its most untimely death
haunted this poor, disturbed muse
into disbelieving all
like that in a young child's nightmarish dream
everything is as it should not seem
the warm, understanding breath of the ever
perpetuating prayer
possesses very little sweetness in my long since
dried mind's eye
as the 'thought to be' beauty is wasted on
the way........
towards........
the damning attempt
this not to be so very true is for what I
constantly pray
truth and her rival variety violently collide
in my head
splattering much too much excess upon my falsely
dulled senses
pain can be such a tedious yet distantly close
feeling
but I become all the more intoxicated by its
overly sobering essence...............
(Nov. 7, 1994 pm)