tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288525412011-04-21T23:13:56.609-05:00henryadamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01979263689092075923noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28852541.post-1148848823469211492006-05-28T15:17:00.000-05:002006-05-28T15:59:06.066-05:00End Caption<br /><br />Created by thunder without lightning, the dregs<br />Of subcreation trumpeted by shadow dialogues<br />Heathen poets raid temples and synagogues,<br />A prophetic virgin dumb from birth begs<br />For a sign of life, a burning word torn<br />From its roots, mining truth in a bloody thorn.<br /><br />To create with no purpose is always a sin<br />No singer earns what she has yet to spend<br />Blank pages encrypted with crystals bend<br />White light into colorless rainbows again<br />The failed artist forfeits a fee more substantial<br />Than his skin or her safe passage to hell<br /><br />Back in time to the burst bubble born<br />As it cries “poof” and remains in the air<br />Content to believe in an unspoken dare<br />If you haven’t seen God’s hymen torn<br />Then look again when he lays down the word<br />And issues the earth in the midst of a turd<br /><br />The teller sings, tales are born and time ticks<br />The mind can’t shine past the page’s charms<br />And nothing can be unless silence it harms<br />Not the silence of noiseless pin pricks<br />The silence of more than not being said<br />The silence of living which is never quite dead.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28852541-114884882346921149?l=theonegrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>henryadamshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01979263689092075923noreply@blogger.com0