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Monday, November 30, 2009

Faceless

I have written so few words to the one I love, for the one I love, for I have not loved like I might have

Alice chased the white rabbit, I chase the illusion of

Happiness, happiness, happiness

it exists, so I've been told, the bundle of mature emotion, immature impulsiveness, the words which are

spoken as the anthem of the living, the silence of the dead

How can I long for the world to reorder, to turn back the clock, to disappear into the endlessness of

selfishness the point of no return

and you just can't stay away, walk away

the river keeps flowing, divergent paths intertwining, folding, churning, caught in the current, drifting away as

the exits begin to fly away, away from the grasp of the desperate tips, the lips pursed in confusion

So says the mad hatter as they take him away

the beveling peckers are laughing, are laughing at nothing,

are laughing at fate

Feel nothing, know nothing

you monkeys, awake

MAD, mad

A pile of rubbish,

endless misogyny

fateless, trajectory

Still the point,

point out the crystal guide, shakily shift it in the sands

           Why, why did you treat me this way?

I thought that marriage meant happiness, forever, someone to be there

Did I leave or did I stay? Will you ever go away?

I thought, I had, I have

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

What is it?

You've got a moment, use it, before it slips away

yet the indecision, the indirection

haunt

slip past

slip fast

grasp

What is it that I must do...

Asks the young to the old

to make my life full, wonderful, to live?

Tumbling frailness, aching emptiness, a hollow void of direction echo from the chambers of the fading heart, beating frantically, snatching terribly at the last rays of the sun on the horizon. The ship is sailing away, taking along the fits of starts and stops which have lain broken on the shore.

The child

left

confused

As the stick tossed in the stream travels swiftly to the ocean, or moored along the bank, a fascinating demonstration of time passing. Can we freeze time to grasp hold of life again?

Childhood

slips

the wonder of it is

that we used to think that adults knew the answers

As I stand here watching it all, I wonder

can I plunge my hand into the stream of knowledge, and pull out a direction, the script of understanding?

or is it a fathomless void, from which no one can return?