Friday, December 2, 2011

Mr. Brooks

Cry, cry Mr. Brooks.
Cry venerable Mr. Brooks.
Meet me in the sky;
Meet me in my world;
Touch me on my time.
Reach into my mind, my heart;
Love me on my terms.
Tempt your fate in the eye of a needle;
The tiniest moment moving me to forever;
Eternal light.
Gravitating to a better time;
A fixed and necessary time of love
To me and only me.
My jealousies and my wonder
My lub-dub wonder that you could take
So gently into your tumult, your time
Your space, your need, your everything ‘til
‘morrows morn’.
To understand, ‘does a song bird cry?’
Cry, cry Mr. Brooks.
Cry venerable Mr. Brooks.
Learn to direct your tears down
The back of your throat.
The salty endeavor of lost moments
To drain sensibilities and reason
To a dark and private place
Protected from peering eyes.
I’ve stretched every moment;
A tangible dream.
How could a moment cease to be
Other than a dream
Other than a ghost
Other than a mist enveloping my crown;
Temples pulsing to a throbbing headache.
Cry, cry Mr. Brooks.
Let rise the steam of your body.
Let rise the hopes of forever gone bad.
Cry for the loss of emotions
That keep us locked into
The realm of reason and sensibilities.
Dream of a better way,
A better day
Put to rest the temptations of Christ
To feel your humanity and
The dirt that soils us all.
Reach for forever so that
You can dream of the great escape.
The entire expanse of what
God really means.
Reach for Big Bang, supernova, light year speed.
Let that be your need, let that be your speed.
From me to you
From now until then.
Forever and ever,
Forever and ever,
And ever.

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