. The Poet's Beat .

. The Poet's Beat .
"A working class citizen is apt to see this country for what it's worth... A miasma of interlocking variations on differing demographics and geographies unlike any other inhabited space in the world. The American Dream. The rolling footloose hills and the upstanding Apache badlands where criminals cut bread with priests and the children of Hollywood. I am no different. Yet I am still brazen enough to think that the world is a playground built by the rugged hands of a hard-working man in order that my fantasies be materialized." -- P.P. Vonnersdale

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

We Decided to be in Love

We decided to be in love,
to erase the crazy idea
of landscapes that called our intrepid souls apart,
distant realities that fed our independence,
acting as a buffer to the theory that we belong together,
in the lie of a life that says we don't,

in the midst of it all
we found the course that was the root of our love
from the beginning,
yet we dashed off to fulfill dreams
that draped the dreams that made us cry for one another at night,
in the darkness that made us question what we had,
in the darkness that made us blind
to the crazy notion that no love was greater than ours',
that made us think we lost it,
a misplaced perfection like a storm cloud in the desert,
thinking the cloud brought lightening,
ignoring its shade,
and altogether forgetting the rain,

we were so close to a mistake,
tasting a freedom that was vile to our pallets
and a prison within the open space
of what could have been our empty lives,
realizing before the gate was closed
to grab on tight,
to intimately lock our fingers and never let go,
we decided to be in love,
knowing we were never out of it.


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