A Silver Mt Zion C’mon C’mon an Endless longing
Heres the poem I improvised to go with it
Eyes Sharp like Shrapnel,

I saw the dew,
there was the feedback,
between your trusted Empty interior,
I felt for the cavity,
A Stare, a causal glance,
a trial by fire,
to tear free,
and then a chance,
yet thoughts like scribbling,
They feed from the heavens,
After they rain down in Finish,
below we grasp at shards,
reaching for metallic feelings,
Sipping on the Juices of the Void,
A empty sentence,
a walk in a direction,
a meaningless exchange,
a sense of regret,
a freedom so revealing,
Peace in the sky,
bring forward the emptiness,
the blinding of light,
twins though crippled,
fire comes from there hands,
Eyes like Shrapnel,
Eyes like Shrapnel,
Eyes like Shrapnel,
Eyes like Shrapnel,

Eyes like Shrapnel…………..

First poem in over a Decade written abstractly than the order shifted a little whilst listening to a Silver Mount Zion
Frank Louis Allen 17.36 GMT 03-12-11

The Line / Obsession Vs Love

The Line – Frank Allen

Like painted on scars running all to dangerously close to the edge.

Where reason teeters on the line.

The line across which everything is scary. 

Picked up as easily as a feather that has no shadow.

Than that same which half blocks out the sun.

All is anxiety here, all is loss, that is why I am elsewhere. 

Where is the line?

One mans  obsession is anothers chivalry

Ones love, another’s is Panic.

Does he and she know obsession  like I know obsession?