Sunday, April 12, 2009

Bipolar Turpitude

It began as a shiny penny day
heads up 
from the gleaming sunshine
shaded by dewy hyacinths.
A bursting of joyous rapture
spilling into a frenzied fanciful.

A cloud darkens as the 
shine diminishes
to dull dearth.
Sinking frontier
in a moments notice,
queering the hope
in a tangled vision.

Infinity is a fallen
number... crazy eights
circling over and around
and down and up, down
and around over and up.

Where does it end in this
dualistic entanglement?
Heaven only knows 
the secret it holds.
Poetic notation has it's perils.

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