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the captive light [17 Mar 2007|01:11pm] [ music | is ] the captive light though clouds like soldiers gather to war on the fading light, still would i look into those eyes see the heavens captured, kept safe and secret until dawn, while all around the darkness claims its apparent victory, we sit huddled like refugees, our treasures on our backs yours hidden in those eyes, mine as well, we know something too good to tell and whisper it without words while the world around descends into night, but only for a time, for you hold the captive light no soup for you

skepticism [17 Mar 2007|01:10pm] [ music | is everywhere ] skepticism ascending in the long dark night the gathering sentinels of light stand watch over a skeptic world that stirs, restless, wanting to believe in stars that sing yet understanding binds us well to what we see, what fact would tell is all that is, or ever was what a price is paid for cold and certain truth the syllogism plays its knell upon the harlot reason's bell ringing in their master's death the handmaids go silent hand in hand to the gallows the power we are wont to choose; the vigor of the hangman's noose death to soul our final end enslavement, the silence of the grave in place of dread mystery awakening, instilling things we do not know and aren't sure we want. but far beyond this quiet sphere a song remains for those who'd hear no soup for you

philosophy [17 Mar 2007|01:08pm] [ music | somewhere ] philosophy last light, and everything still the cars scrape like canvas on the road you see yourself from over and outside weird angles and crooked lines and it seems ridiculous that things should be this way but how else could they be? this vain philosophy is good with other people's words but yours don't sound the same at least when you're saying something true and like a ghost you walk alone wander on the path of stone and wonder where the fault lies. with the words of men long dead, like their writers cold and dry or with your own philosophy without the fire to give them life. either way the words lie in their graves and you've none of your own, so it's quiet, and still, just your breath and the distant road and the steps upon the stone, as you walk the path alone no soup for you

as yet untitled [17 Mar 2007|01:05pm] [ music | yes ] rustbrown branches shake in the wind sharp like glass, and every breath is a knife and you think, "a human is something for the world to tear," while you step through the leaves, and feel the weight of your shoes. the tree gods are dead, their bones litter the ground remembering a day (long past) when trees could be beautiful, before they were only trees. all around, the warring eyes, the ringing clarion call to war, the bitter clash of steel; the fires of industry burn anew, glowing crimson, dark iron, a forge to build a nation (or consume). piercing light, man's cutting vision, why see, when you can see through? the battle cry, onward, upward, the siren breaking the smoke. in blazing a path, you burn a few branches, but then, deicide is nothing new. silent, swift the passing wind, as you wonder which is greater, Dryad or chlorophyll. no soup for you

astronomy [17 Mar 2007|01:04pm] [ music | jose gonzalez ] astronomy the thin line between loving and wanting, the firefly in the jar or the star in the sky; the one soon to die, the other so bright but so far away, cold light waiting quietly for the day like I'm waiting now, breath held tight against the darkness fingers crossed in simple unspoken prayers, that the light won't be dead before it reaches us, here on our separate hills overlooking the night. but what fools we are, waiting for a distant star when look, behind us, the rising sun - it is morning. no soup for you

Crossing The Bar [06 Mar 2007|09:39pm] [ mood | artistic ] [ music | pinback ] Crossing The Bar By Reid Echols When she first saw him he was sitting in the branches of a tree, like some wandering forest god or a lost child, she wasn’t sure which. A wry look in his eyes, like an impending explosion of laughter on his face in the shifting light of the sun through the leaves. The stones were warm on the path passing under her feet. She smiled at him, the trees, the day drowning in light. His expression changed, became thoughtful, as if the smile were a question he was struggling to answer. She had slowed down without realizing it, and came to a stop at the base of the tree. The thoughtful look on his face passed away, revealing the same joyous conspiracy that had been there before. He slid from his branch to the ground, and gave a flawlessly executed bow. ( read more ) no soup for you

Significance [06 Mar 2007|03:22pm] [ mood | creative ] [ music | wilco ] Significance By Reid Echols It was all grey. Sky met surf met sand; all different shades intermingled, blurred into a single diffusion of light and darkness. Something about the wind, the waves’ procession, the clouds growing and growing… Nothing was solid, just echoes, smoke, ghostlike shapes wanting only a strong enough gust to scatter and disappear. It was a passing world, one that maybe a step too heavy or a thought too bright could shatter. ( read on ) no soup for you

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