~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: XXIV:~

WordWulf By WordWulf, 20th Mar 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Personal Experiences

~ I am a guide to the labyrinth ~ Jim Morrison ~ Are your longings under a thousand maths, you fool! ~ you poet! ~ Nietzsche ~ I hope your dreams take you to the highest of your hopes ~ Charles Manson ~ by good angels tenanted ~ Poe ~ name it religion ~ sacrifice others ~ save your damned self ~

~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: XXIV:~

~ Salt/Something Fishy~

They’ve taken this dead thing and named it great, a city after it even, erected temples on its shores, a labyrinth of roads. Is their God alive, these prophets forfeit?

I put faith in, took money out, damned near starved to death. The journey to a woman’s heart is troublesome to contemplate, at once an ecstatic universe and wasteland of sorrows.

The older a man becomes, the shorter his tether. In consideration of wisdom, this should not be the case.
Whom wields the sword, decides the target. Warriors die alone.

Five miles straight up we made our homes but no one knew the difference. It’s lonely on a mountain peopled with tourists. They steal all its pinecones, complain when they’re gone.

Listening to the wind, we invite ourselves to think, to sleep and dream perhaps make love and shiver in the after when it speaks to the face of our skin, fall down laughing, do it again.

Salt blowing across this highway to the west, my son decides to taste it. “Tastes like dirt,” he says. Riding in this fast car, deep down in its belly, I’m reminded of a slaughter of whales.

~Tom (WordWulf) Sterner~
~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: XXIII~
~Whiskey Man~

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