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Rant Of The Moment

Saturday, May 17, 2003


Pregnant ripe sweltering day
In what transitory beauty lay
Night like justice, love is blind
Sly thief of beauty naught but time
Withers flowers from the vine
Tomorows irreverant paean to youthful folly of yesterday

Innocence cares not for shrouds
Sees the pretty shapes in clouds
Way too dirty much too loud
And precious in its clumsy way
Barefoot on the summer grass
Is not afraid of broken glass
Can't wait for time to start to pass
Impatient for the day
Has yet to dream of lost repast caught up in youthful sway

When the iris clouds with grey
Time curls the edges, yellows, nay
Bruises beauty cruel and swift and goes along its merry way

In seasons of harsh retrospect
No need for wisdom curse weak flesh
We don the garbs of hags and ogres
Longing for the day
With mortal vessels tossed aside
The spirit swells and time subsides
And one has the chance to utter finally "Thank you for the pleasant stay"

Michael Forkan Saturday, May 17, 2003

Wednesday, May 14, 2003

Dear Dad:

I speak now only to strangers
Who grow stranger still every day
And I learn and I teach nothing
And I keep everything well at bay

And joy is just a memory
Though laughter serves to part the clouds
I'm all alone all the time now
speaking to myself aloud

I serve an endless sentence
For the crime of being me
I am the eternal penitent
and the jailer with the key

I lead myself into the stockade
for the flogging I deserve
And I pay my daily penance
It's sentence that I serve

I worry I'm not cruel enough
With the lash across my back
I don't think I'm getting through to me
Cause I still keep talking back

I play back your endless loop tapes
Though you're dead. God damn your soul
Now I need the shame of torture
and self contempt that makes me whole

I fear I still need crueler tools
to discipline the likes of me
What would suggest father?
Speak to me to me from the depths of hell
I'm here waiting with the pliars in my hand

Michael Forkan Wednesday, May 14, 2003

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