Setsurine

~*Gotham's Girls~* Gotham's girls roam the street The three are quick, light on their feet One with whip, one with fire The other uses a man's desire With cyanide-painted lips Away a man's life will slip Green clothes, red hair Kiss her if you dare Next comes the Cat, adorned in black leather She prowls on rooftops, light as a feather She cracks her whip, she sharpens her claws A feline she is, she breaks human laws The last is the first of the three The goddess of chaos has no subtly Using neither poison nor whip like the rest of her clan She uses fire to accomplish her plan Clothed in purple and green, flames on her face pa

elegantly out of grace you chase dreams glued      to castaway cherry blossoms      glittering dimly inside         tightly sealed jars that hang from the stars like lanterns out of reach from the tiny open palms         of ingenuous children           and like a phantom of an opera           each sonata you play resonates nightfall within this ethereal labyrinth relinquishing the patina of aspiration   

reality is the entombment        of aspiration a premature burial of altruism that croons an oath         of fidelity to pandemonium when existence inoculates methane            into the flare of one's dreams the detonation of desire blazing into oblivion    the charred debris         is devoured; force-fed by a clairvoyant disease   - to swallow one's own dreams like a funambulist       traversing over

Imaginary Friends You say that I am Empty, But that is not True. I am half Full. You tell others that I am Blind, But that is a Lie. My vision is Skewed. You accuse me of being Fictitious, But that is mere Speculation. I am a waking dream In your reality. As real and alive As anyone else. So why must you make me so Imperfect? Are we not friends? Copyright © 2008 Jarred Lee