28 Feb 2011

Dismissed

There is a sadness in my bones, today

thoughts come

I live between little ridges on quarters

The worn, marked places

That are neither heads nor tails,

It knows no perversion, yet.

I live in the reality of memory

The terrible, beauty of present history

That is neither reconcilable nor repeatable,

It knows only pauses.

I live with the tension

The binary, goodness of our pursuits

That are neither holy nor pure,

It knows not shalom or sheol.

I live around converters

The grimy, puzzled territory

That is neither satisfied nor unsettled,

It knows only adulterated intentions.

I live inside hearts

The tender, syncopated enigma

That is neither beating nor buried,

It knows nowhere to run.

There is a sadness in my bones, today

thoughts come and prick at my heart.