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poetry movement 1.11.03

song of the soul
strayed from the heart


movement one

i too have felt it
the pangs of panic
clawing in the darkness
of despair
as i try and find my way back home
to that place of peace and love
i have strayed from my heart

movement two

i see you here
devoid of smiles
devoid of laughter
devoid of self
how uncomfortable
how grey
how did i get here

movement three

I'm going back home
A red balloon floating
disentangled from a tree
liberated from this place
hold my hand
I'll take you with me
in the words of William S. Burroughs 11.Jan.2003 10:26

neam

There were 50 people filling a large passenger balloon. It was poorly tethered. As it filled with gas, it started drifting up. People scrambled to grab hold, pull it down and moor it. But it continued to drift upward, those that sought to keep it in place clinging to the ropes. When it was about 30 feet off the ground, one person let go. She was the only one who lived.

Sometimes you must just let go.

circumference of action 11.Jan.2003 20:15

Amsel

With the sunrise, a tide of ambition, idea and
possibility fill out minds
We seek what we may fufill, what options are within
our hands
And under that sun we do, we live, we create and
destroy.
With the sun setting, reflection sweeps our minds, the
lessons learned, the love given and the experienced
gained.
And under the absent sky we dream of what we are to
become under tomorrows golden sunlight.