Plasma rich in plenty

Intrinsic and petrified

Within ourselves

We relied

Or tried

We lied

Tried to hide

Then broke down (inside)

Our caves and our castles

Despite our convictions

Contradictions play

Before our eyes

We are blinded (by)

Pride and vanity

All is meaningless

Of course unless

Dare I protest?

Do my best

Without rest

Work and play

Pray all day

“I wish I had time…”

On goes the rhyme

Inside it plays on

Like a broken down song

Time waits for no one

We wait in its line

One by one

We are counted

‘Til all is accounted for

Who knocks at the door?

Close the curtains or windows

To our very own souls

Smoky eyes and their lashes

As all turns to ashes

Not to mention           our need (for)

Divine intervention (or intention)

An ounce of its cure

Is anyone pure?

Who knows for sure?

Wait    watch     look and listen

We’re on a mission

Tricks trade without passion

Don’t feel a reaction

Like a chain or a link in the pain

A sky without rain

Scorching the just and the unjust

Continue I must

Put the manic in motion

Arrested devotion

Quick to listen

Slow to speak

Slow to wrath

On the path

We trip past the meek

Making them weak

With the wanting

Desire and delirium

Captivate our freedom

We abandon our reason

All in due season

We fly to our Heathcliff

Leap over the edge

To a ledge where we’re clinging

To a life we call living

Tears torn on the thorns

That entangle (and)

Strangle our emotions

Wet lips   kiss

The dew  drops

Honey sweet,

Blood red

And broken

Our hearts

Taste the poison

As we fall from our glory

Free falling and floating

And wake in the morning

To drink our hot coffee

And jump on the go train

They stop at the cross     walk

And watch as we flash by

In the blink of an eye

Pleasure rich in plenty

We drink our fill

And still we feel  (e m p t y)

Our souls search

Our hearts find

Our minds abandon

And we are left   stranded     in plenty



© Una-Melina // Worthy Books & Things, 2006.