Sunday, December 23, 2007

Fine

Whimsical musicians artwork, map faery tale adventure,whimsical sitting bride and groom... all these treasures waiting in the doorway.

My Whimsical Musicians Artwork Does Map Faery Tale Adventures- An Excuse for Passion

An Excuse for Passion and Ribbons That Sway...

This excuse for passion
map faery tale adventure
go ahead
make those ribbons sway.
Whimsical musicians artwork
Did you give thanks?
Did you think you were magic?
Whimsical sitting bride and groom
songs in the morning...
I guess I thought you were once too.

Will you run to the store for me?
whimsical musician
pick up those things I love?
Will you run?
Map a faery tale adventure?

Remind me to give you a gift in return
or at least a trace of one
this bride
this groom.
My generosity is shortcoming
fine art whimsical angel commissions
though justified in its seclusion
I think we will agree.

The breezes I find here
comforting I guess.
I thought i'd find a gift somewhere
my bride
my groom
but no.

The breezes I find here
sacred
holy
yet only
breezes.

Blood drips down from the entry
no matter the cost.
You have survived
tell me so I can sleep tonight.

There is mold on your charms
I mark the path
it is a ruthless war.

There was a stranger
I hear he was sleeping
I am bleeding
again
in the hallway
but I am none the less wiser.

Who will tell the story when blood is gone?

I'll test your hands for bleeding
yours or mine
no going back.

You would think that someone would say something
wouldn't you?
make a map of a faery tale adventure?
But no
no big talk here.
I will accept to sorry answers
no folded flowers
no matter the color.

I hope to see you again
or maybe me
in this comfort zone
gentle zone I formed with sand.

I've narrowed it down at least
made lists
still incomplete
yet I live here.
People move
pardon the mess
I am on my way
I will be whole no matter what i think right now.

Ahh the blood stain
that you left behind
you were looking for another victim
and something sacred to hide
I bend to those conclusions
yet still
all the while
I paste bandages over my mouth.

Seclusion
my martyr
do we need an ambulance?

I am still thinking of your voice
or someone's
whimsical musicians artwork
yet I do not hear those good intentions
no matter how hard I listen.
They have been left by the wayside
that I am now.

This voice
it says to run.
All I can say is...
how?
You seem to see my reflection
every where I go
I do go.

This voice has rivers
they flow over
but freezes in the winter.

Where is winter?

My best friend
time out
winter
my best friend.

I am embedded in the moon
I did not admit to it before
and yet I am.

The cloud that succumbs me
hides me in the shadows.
Its not about me or you
no bell to chime.
Don't count on me
whimsical musicians artwork
or stupid rhymes in poems.
No one that I know can feel their breathing.

Such a bad predicament
I continue to repair it.
No dollies here though
no hair to comb
no smudges patched
no
real love tells you to fly
fly
home.

16 April 2007
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen

No comments: