xoet the poet

Forcing myself to laugh

It is not funny no matter what way the cookie crumbles the cookie crumbs flake away like ripples away from a stone echoes of thoughts and feeling that seem so unreal like an umbrella the loneliness of blissful not-ness ever alone in a waterfall of evening ripping my heart from my chest I frolic like a butterfly in the blizzard of overemphasized nothing no's of snow escaping into the volumes like sitting in a laughing birds pocket where the gold is in the sky as crying makes no senses and feelings of not-ness given up the chances at last there is dreams in my life like evolving diamonds as they exploded into the are on jupiter's beaker where it was made to consume the doom of lives endless tail of sadness and loneliness brisk ware the hair escapes from my head into the chin of my mouths tongue hard to expose the lows hard to feel that moving on feeling of falling into the sordid tales of wu and you you you .... ever real ever right there in my face and my place is not mine but blind into the light of that good night in everywheres we were to see the free that support art as an artist dies and ant can not tell right or left but when the up and down of cycles ride to the end of the night and evening even the night off the right a wolf screams blue and a glass shatters like my heart bent to break again....

posted by Bill Newbold @ 1/15/2006 10:56:00 PM