Normally, I consider rhyme the devil.

Entreating the soft and supple black
I lifted, turned and bent my tired arms back

And troubles seemed to bear the brunt
of langour's cold cross-eyed affront

Troubled by the my brutal bearings
burnt, but hardly feeling, caring

I sent the rippling shivering start
and drank black blood from it's dripping heart.

The Stillness of this Moment

Softly glowing lights
the buzz of electricity beneath the tranquil sound of music
blue skys invading the night
stars fading and dying the latest of infinite deaths
winking out as the world twists and turns away from them
the acrid smell of cigarette smoke in my so-called non-smokers face
the sweet taste of sugared coffee
distantly the chink of metal buckles against each other
counting one long moment after another
Lost . . . in the stillness of this moment

Fragile

Another unpublished mental belch from 7/03/05.

These fragile creature move through the world. Their lives contained in the industrial expansion of our pitiless human race. Crushed and thrown about by the wheel we create for them.