Thursday, September 27, 2012

2.511 : 9/26/06 : (Selling Water for its Weight in Gold) Overture

Wearing thin and getting old
clichés worn to the glow of fool’s gold
Good intentions heard that one before
A mirror meets a window meets a door
An overture of a sketch of a notion
Such a small bucket such a large ocean
forgotten all the movements I imagined
forgiven and forgiven and still I sinned
The story of the journey, the story of the bell
the story of the forest  and the story of the well
the story of the tale and how it was told
of the man who sold them water for its weight in gold
the rising action the parabola
the gripping climax and its dénouement
the people as they carried it six thousand years
revealing every mystery as it appeared
I’m weary of the argument inside my head
of silently refuting all the words he said
of biting on my tongue all the live long day
And so I say and so I say
I’m going to pass over this bitter cup
I’ve had enough I’m going to give it up
it will never be finished I’ll never be done
I will never understand
I’ll never be the one

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