The blades stretch
As the sun reaches down
Arms extent -
Fingers pushed to the end.
The laughter continues.
Around and around,
There is never any silence.
The voices are singing
as the rain gently falls;
The voices fade.
The blades bow to the clouds,
The laughter is silenced,
and then the heavens close.
The laughter is resumed
The blades show their strength. |
Iron
bars encasing
Each
follows the preceding in uniform,
Of
their distorted free will
Through
the days we play one part,
While
rehearsing another in out consciousness
Each
second diverted between reality, and desire
One
weeping; one marvels
Ruling
to think, excusing charged thought
Tranquility
is no place for a dreamer.
Waves
of discontent are too enormous,
I
am wet;
Soaked
with the possibility of a meaningful existence
Ignorance
in exchange for enhancement,
Stealing
from one's own woven net
Let
the holes break the seal,
Spirits
shall dance in the flood. |
| "I have
been writing my thoughts, my words, in essence my poetry for years.
I have enjoyed bringing to light the ideas I find relevant in a world where
sometimes the important issues get buried behind simulated relevance.
My family have been the supporters of my spirit and my work since the beginning.
They are the reason I have the strength to be myself. They gave me
the courage to let my friends see all the sides of me I have to offer.
Thank you to all my friends that have realized I can hold myself
up, but sometimes I need someone to hold my hand.
Please
contact me with any furthur questions. Thank you so much",
Tara
MacIntosh, B.B.A.
Email
Tara
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the express consent of Tara MacIntosh |
