Picturesby Eric Nunnally
I am more than this
More than a slave of convention
Toiling against time
To sustain who?
To produce what?
Chasing illusory enjoyments
To make bearable my sentence.
I would tear through this flesh
And free myself of its basic understandings
- if I could keep out the noise of powers and principles;
I could soldier my gifts
And carve a sanctuary in this mountain.
The wind blows
And heartbeats follow rhythms set for them
And I know that all the ants in the world
Cannot stop the elements from washing away the hill…
So I see the so-called kings
And the fools who serve them
And stand away
Embracing the wisdom of my poverty;
I return to nothing
And become everything
Still looking for someone to talk to…
June 25, 2004
Here's your chance to be a critic! Please do! I welcome the feedback! Thanx again for stopping by!