Hits

The night shines of filigree
among an attentive audience.

Here we are again, in this sleep-scape;
Constantly walking into the crowd of
embodied energy.

Charmed by my awakening,
I laugh at the dreamers as if their
actions towards me were ok.


“No, states my narrator, it is not ok
this is very much real to this man who
wants you.
Don’t let him in.”

I close my light and open my eyes
To the waking world
escaping the longings of a stranger.

-SJP 10-Sep-2007

Memory of the Lost

Are you mourning today?
Detached from the command of the road
Watching flowers and the breath
Leaving them?

Is the approach vacant of all of its physical nature where only shadows move?

Can you hear the whispers from the pictures upon the wall?

Where has your reflection gone?

In the chambers of every waking moment,
An imprint lingers.
Transgression of thoughts processed
Imprinted as words upon a page.

How simple to the fatal steps we grow nearer.
But how blessed in each day rising;
The remembrance of embraces keeps shining.
Off like a shot and we are swimming in our dreams;
Taking histories and shining them into the future's mission.

A flash of flowers and pictures on the wall;
In our essence in our presence we take to bed with us
Them all.


-Sonja 23-Aug-2006 (For John Chipura and Brendan Dolan, 911 WTC)