Rise up to stand square on
And do not turn the other cheek
What is it?
Where are you?
I can’t see
I can’t breathe
I can’t feel
Yet you know…
Can you feel the right to be allowed…
Clawing at her skin to rid herself of these feckless thoughts
Dried flakes of never mind run rivulets with blood
That course craze bright red.
The metal bindings are through and through
Punctuated by the holes that are in alignment
Paper scissors stone
She is not blood
Never can be
How can you determine up from down
When your ballast is wayward?
You have no horizon…
Where your Mast is shattered no longer true
Your sails full of holes means you endlessly list
No you must dig deep
Plunge into the depths of the infinitude
Tear up the universal slipstream and only then will you arrive
The ache is immense
How is it possible that the heart can be sore
That the gut screams run
The mind so confused lives in the land of Never-mind
To become numb
The crow knew
Been telling me for weeks
Me too stupid to listen
Had to wake up face first in my own vitriol to get it
What is eternity the old one muses?
As she threads the weft through the loom.
Time is but a concept measured by…
Sitting at her loom
She begins a new pattern
She cannot see
But takes heart that her fingers know the soulful way…
How do you sustain the impossible?
Now is the time
Don’t let go
Evolve or separate
Not that I’m complaining I can still sort of see
It’s just that noise
Could someone turn off that scream?
Oh shit! That’s me…
What if my mind stay’s in the MEMORY of BEFORE?
What happens to PRESENT time?
Is it lost or valued more… or even relevant
Peace and Dread sat side by side
Alignment was non-too pleased
Co-existence on the other hand
Offered up Encouragement.
Bent over the load was almost insurmountable
Her forehead periodically scraping the ground…
In order to ease her gait she would rock from side to side; crab like,
The rustle of their wings signals loves sweet song
The humidity past caring drenching everything wet.
Fingers grasp Mother Earth
The raincoat tied in a knot;
Hangs limp like some forgotten piece of detritus
Faded by the harsh sun
Its ragged edges flutter useless in the brisk southerly
The only coal face I’m at is my own and it’s not a pretty sight!
Pared back to the nonsensical