Brittle rivers

A Poem by Georgiana S

I'm walking on rivers...
The black rivers
Flowing from my mind.

Flowing and growing,
With the speed of light,
In filthy logic, senselessly...

Like words in black silk, floating
On the air I see, leaving me blind,
Breathing, senselessly.

Listening to the air of the night,
Makes understanding brighter than the light,
The foggy question marks aren't erased
By the tragic rubber, I often embraced
in my own stories of knots, dots and white.

There is no clearance seen
With eyes closed.
There are no words keen
On hidden tongues.
Of course, I can cry and lie...

Then lie again...
Until the truth becomes a ghost,
And I shall run freely and boast
Like a child lost in times
Of toxic rainbows and mimes,
Flowers with a strange perfume -
Of lost tears and my body exhumed

In a world I can't conceive,
Though, before my eyes -
With chained, black and white stripes
Falling, twisting themselves in sadness,
When the lights are playing in soft darkness,
Caressed by fingerprints on a glass.

Soon...

I know I will be falling, too.
This sea is no longer strong
To hold my bare thoughts.

The air around me is dissipating, in shivers.
Here I am, again, walking on rivers
Made of black, brittle worlds
I used to believe in,
Senselessly.

© 2012 Georgiana S

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Eagle Cruagh

----- in your mind you create the world----Buddha.

Brittle Rivers is a most interesting title.
It is catchy even "brittle".

---- in your mind you create the world---- Buddha.

You need not be a Buddhist, or even thoughtful
to appreciate this. Just think about it.
You can dreate any kind of world you want just by
deciding the course of your life. So, decide.

---- John