Monday, March 14, 2005

feet twitch / legs a hum of restless

so hard to find words on this nite
feel terminal sadness
about things i have no control of

like women getting so depressed
they kill thems selves & their children

why why i wonder
i do know the answer

i stood on the edge looking in to the water
i decided i would take my children with me
in to the water / vortex of a high spring run off
the coquitlam river


some where sanity grabbed me / & i didn't die that day
& neither did my children

but this theme returns / comes back to me over & over
i remember wanting to die
the hope less ness of it all


a baptismal of death by water

a guarantee in to heaven

all the little children drowned by their mommys
sit a circle / wet / but are they smiling

all the little souls / were they really freed















& what goes through mother's mind as she submerges
each child

i did this for you

mother truly is a murderer


life giver / life taker
i hold you to my chest
ah little miracle of flesh & blood
becomes a bartering tool

no / a part of / mother can't let go
tied tightly to the fallopian tube
come hold my hand / let us walk to gether
eternally yours








& so they say / rest in pieces of soul
burned black / bare bone / ashes
for you i carry ashes















& that last fifth of the moon lays on his back
above the western horizon / orange some times that
moon is orange / & bright / a sliver of curled brightness
& i wonder how much that old moon has seen ///


circling // a killing moon


watches blood flow eternal / black washed clean by rain
seeps in to the ground / / oh life giver / run red down
thigh /

let the moon see you

as strips of black cloud settle below
above / swallow the moon / & for just one moment
the bright orange tip shines like a cats eye
between those clouds / / what are you searching for
moon / /


the truth / somewhere here in l.ays the truth

why mother' kill their children / can it be any more
cut & dried ///

i died for you











so mother bakes cookies / does laundry
tries not to yell @ the children
this is what mommy does





mommy writes to forget

mommy writes to remember















& yea / these day years run for ward
in front of me / pull me a long
resisting / becomes futile

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