Saturday, August 29, 2009


Another dark night of the soul.

Another black hole I refuse to get sucked into.

Enough is enough until even enough neither satisfies nor satiates you.

I’d say I was out of my mind except not certain I was ever in my mind.

I’d say I will never give up the fight and yet the towel may have been thrown in over two thousand years ago on a Place of Skulls.

Belief is never an illusion and illusions are best when understated and pickled in brine.

I would whisper sweet nothings in your ear if I could find your ear and if I honestly believed saying nothing would make much of a difference at this time of insurrection.

Another dark night of the soul.

Another poem written in chicken scratch while my best intentions are left out in the cold.

I wish I had a box of Good & Plenty and there was an old theater I could escape inside.

Now I’m reminded of when we watched Henry Fonda and Charles Bronson in “Once Upon A Time In The West” and how everything we needed was right there.

Now I’m reminded of a time when pushing fast forward and rewind didn’t press so urgently on my heart and mind.

Charles Cicirella
May 27, 2009

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