Saturday, 21 November 2009
And a bit of auto-writing for November
--Slips & scribbles stuffed into diaries--
up and away
Let’s float high on ebullient inconsequence
Make disregard our means to an end
Escape our end to all meaningless
Shutter take it down put it away
shut it out anything to escape
No night too dark no way too narrow
Any shout let it out release or risk
the explosion building up inside.
Take it apart with your own two hands
No one else will do it for you.
Better accept it’s up to you, kiddo,
no hero, no lone ranger to come riding out of the sunset,
except perhaps to pick up his hat
which he forgot in his haste to get out.
Oh wot laughs!
Shelter shimmering shameless nights.
Altering alternate overview overclouded
upbraided unnested from its comfort perch.
Brought out and made to face th emusic
Face up to its responsibilities
Take it down a notch or two
Pause - gasp for breath.
Overwhelming overbearing incident accident
subsume human thought
devoid of warmth
descants of fresh pain screaming in the silent night
What tuneful despair
How lustily we laugh at their petty sighs
their unfounded fears
making light, making little of what explodes
from their hearts, from their minds
The terrible terrains
unchartered truly by any man
no man at all knows the truth
Gets close only in feeling,
scrabbling for a foothold Anything to save from falling
into that abyss of unknown
that pit that mocks our illusion of safety.
Damn you, sir!
Pedalling your petty truths, penny lies,
betrayal tainting all you tout.
Go then. Leave this place and forget my name.
Soothe soothe soft and calm
beware of so much vexatious beration.
Be rational and soft in your approach.
Let there be love and light and kindness
heart take over anger’s fearful brow.
Soothe this row.
Rate it low and return
empty handed open pocketed
no penalty too great for the grave crime committed here today
foul treason, man, and no mistake.
Truly it were a disgrace to this house,
to your very name.
Fie! for shame on you.
Banish yourself hence and do not bother to be seen again
or it should be a sorry and final sight.
Tackle it down to the ground
Forgive, only because you can,
it is within your power
and there is no greater power than that.
What is this thing?
It does not soar, nor is it jubilant.
Rather, low, it shakes and heaves,
laden and lumpen
Mishapen and abhorent
to the eye and ear and all senses
that have power to perceive it
How they wish they had not.
And I? What of I?
Nothing really in particular that I can think of,
that comes to mind.
Distress built up, calcified,
needs to be banished somehow
righted before it takes too fast a hold
and may never be safely dislodged.
Senseless sadness overwhelms
overflows spills out no control
Hoping for hearing that leaves me
dazzled shining new
Posted by Unknown at 18:29