Earlier tonight...

[rhyll]

Sea Cliffs

Sharp end, borders of
Land, runs out and drops away
Last rocks then sea.

i miss you, and lean out but
too many movie cliches

Stock footage I saw
From a war we still lament
No moon, woman jumps off

in free-fall, spins and tumbles
perfect landing on the rocks

Allow a total peace
Momentum slowed completely
Except now, sea laps.

fractal edges mean pebbles
are as intricate as cliffs

Each pebble a cliff
Each grain of sand a pebble
Though none of them float!

a small child skimming stones learns
about love - and gravity

Every stone you touch
Is touched just once the first time
It won't remember

cliffs fall, rocks break, stones wear down
to fit a palm perfectly

Yet if we weren't here
There'd be no "palm". There'd be no
Words that could move stones.

the writer grabs her paper
blown about by the sea wind

But, set it aside
Swell instead, just simply swell!
Waves will not be stopped.

breathing in the whole world
she touches the horizon

Straight out, keeps going
When there is no air, faster
Faster, Faster out.

watching porpoises
race towards the sun, for them
cliffs are just shadows.

Arguments about revolution!

Pomegranite juice -
it should be far more sanguine,
but it's cold, dark, goop.

Sticks to the spoon, almost like
Molasses, Which no-one eats.

so nutritious, yet
health food stores don't reorder -
glucose sells better

We consumed it after talk
of ways we can and can't fight.

hit below the belt
he winces, but suddenly
remembers first love

How can a heart be open
When all of the world is knives?

the cleaver comes down
she pays and takes the package
wrapped in newspaper

Print smudges in hands
Today's top story "More Weight,
More Worry, Less Hope."

washing her hands, just one word
imprinted on her skin - "Hope"

You hope that the taste
Of the huice is enough to
Give you an hour's smile

"wake up! make you own damn juice!"
no recipes on The Simpsons

Juice is a product of thought
Thoughts are first then there was juice.

before all this, Eve, and
the taste of fruit on your lips

Now we must confess
We, all of us, ate that fruit
But it means nothing

we lick each other's fingers
touch the sunshine and the rain

It will be Ok.
We try, then we fall asleep.
Salt on cheeks, still here.