Searching for the Wasteland

I tire of this cliche cinema

This silver screen has tarnished

This manufactured tension

Is nothing but shadow puppets

Give me a moment of golden silence

Let me savor that sweet afternoon


Where the sun melts

And touches me like velvet

I want your hand on my knee

As we drive

With the open window breeze

I need to find a sublime wasteland

In the dark

Where the word alone

Is a prayer

Mark me with purity

Color me with ash

Give me serenity

So I may touch my lips

And kiss

The sweet dawning of the stillness

That let’s me listen

To my voice

Over the din of this trite

And hollow

Lamenting of this world


2 comments on “Searching for the Wasteland

  1. Anonymous says:


    Liked by 1 person

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