Eccer
Registered User
Join date: Sep 2006
993 IQ
#1
Yet another
Morning, blooming
Outside this window
Mantra
I watched my portrait whilst
Drinking and thinking of
Older days, when
I was but a baby
Observing and learning
Elucidating
This

Figure
Forming as clouds
Vessels carrying soft words
Upon rolling white
Tender hills
Reminiscent
Of sandy dunes
Where I once met
The people of shalem
Telling me, their stories
Of familiar
Paintings drawn
On desert fields
On ground
Where heat absorbs
Whatever felt

Touching
Knobs, turning
Blessed ovens
With boiling steams
Blending colors with
Sporadic fashion
Faster than light
Seeking, seeping
Like air becoming
Columns rising
Lines in my hands
As they form
Its gateways
With hopes, to which
I climb outside these
Palaces
Paralleled
Paradoxes