I haven't tried writing a poem in a long time so I'm trying to get
back in the swing of things but it's hard. Any feedback would be
appreciated. It's pretty personal in nature but last I heard the
people around here are not shy.


UNTITLED

I remember your touch
that innocent brush
trancendant of mere hands and hair

though elusive as steep sun holiness
still...
it never fails...
I always remember your touch

that lost soft cell art
strung on long alphabet sighs
an impetuous pallette mix of drunkerds mercy

those incarnate dreams
of future ghostings
only afterimages now...
distant whispers
down crumbled forgotten highways

Can't somebody stop this crippling?
this spoke wracked wheel of remembering
can't somebody stopp this history
from simply trailing off
into nothing

echoing out
leaving
nothing

-------------------------------

This is going to end up two parts. The second part is still very rough
so I won't torture you with it.
The two parts will be a sort of reverse Matrix idea - this first part
being the reality with the second part tapping into the dream.