The debacle of the 20th century,
and I just another lost seeker
of sustenance for the soul
lacking the wherewithal
to change anything,
yet feeling I must.
Fingers bloodied
from digging for diamonds
in the harsh earth,
seems it had nothing to yield.
Eyes blind from
staring at infinite skies
straining to catch a glimpse
of heaven,
or at least
the residual outline
of God.
The clouds hold
no patterns
these days,
I forget to look at the stars
and sometimes it feels
as if I'm standing at a
silent requiem for myself,
the toll of time churning
hope into futility.
Shower of sounds
rattle through the funnel of
my perception
until they are
echo upon echo,
an infinitely layered duplication
of what once
made sense.
- Gary Jurechka and Scott Gordon
February/March 1998
(Note:This is a collaboration piece between both authors credited)
