Doctoring Myself

[A testament of impending death
Hastily scampered, out her mouth as if
She could never again speak, did she falter then.]

I have reason to believe
The red sun sets, slanting
Oftimes, in a capricious east.


The permeating aura
Of blue pre-dawn stars
Speckles this pair of onyx pupils.


I have accumulated
Too much suffering
Within a pint of murmuring blood.


My curing days are over
I ambulate mechanically,
And healing had always been a ruse.


I wish to lay down my white-coat
And cradling some dolls and a weathered wand
Retire to a cave behind the western falls, forever.


April 19th, '09.




Blast from the past...nice.

Rumble Rumble Rain

Did I mention rain?
Rain, the color of rust and irish shamrocks.
Of blue ice cubes in June.
Rain, rivering roads.
Coloring the dusted jakaranda purple,
The forlorn grey skies a little bright blue.
Rain, that swells my heart,
From a grumpy frumpy rubble
To a happy yappy bubble!