As I begin to lie down
and sprawl out on the page
I am not sure if I will be
a piece of verse.
I look up at you.
I will be lying here
whether you see me or not.
I am dejected by being neglected
when
really
I should not care at all.
I should be content
to just exist,
but I am not.
Well,
there is nothing to do
but lie here
listening out
for falling trees.
Allow me to give you
this precious stone.
The moon
wrapped in a cloud
exposing a dark vein of rain.
O no,
its gone.
You were curled-up in the fist of air
that winded me.
You were buried alive in the ground
I fell upon.
You were light in the stone
I knocked my head upon.
You were awake in my unconsciousness.
You will remain immortal when I die.
You will be eternal when all the dust is blown away.
Occasionally
a moment on Earth
reflects a sliver of an aspect of the Divine.
But
there is no sublime feeling
one can reside within forever.
All these glimpses pass away,
abandoning me.
No home in the world,
no home in houses,
no home in the body,
no home in emotions,
no home in thought.
Photographs and fine memories-
fade.
Follow me down.
It must have been
something I dreamt.
I awoke into a dark mind.
There was nowhere to go but Death.
So close to it’s wall
it’s shadow deadened everything before me.
I saw Autumn in Spring leaves
and my plans for the day
fell flat.
Is this an opportunity then
to muster courage
and tear apart the curtain,
so black
unto a hole
into which all my vanities,
as if into the despair pit
fall?
Heaven remains silent
and motionless.
I am but bones
and I clatter as I circle the hole
trying to determine
if I should leap in.
Would that I had no God.
Many are they who have a god
to thank for their lot.
I Have one I blame a lot,
in truth,
for the length and breadth
of my entire life.
I envy those who have no deity,
who have abandoned
all Fiefdoms,
their freedom
maybe an illusion,
I know not,
but it grants them
much space and freedom
in which to wander
unhindered.
I avoid the religious
for they dress oddly
and obey strange rules.
Just for a moment
stop thinking about that self
you think you are
and remember the child you were
Did you, then, even once
need a reason to be
or a purpose for being?
No, this was not what puzzled childhood
only, maybe,
why was the sky blue?
The body grew
and dragged us along with it.
One step into the world
and where did it leave us
but pacing the floor
of some rented room
wondering on our reason.
Did someone
with words like a magic spell
say who we were
and we could not turn
from that mirror.
Dear Diary,
Disturbed I woke
this morning.
I felt like crying all day.
The bandage of a deluding dream
tore off
uncovering the wound of emptiness
and I bled a dark mood all day.
Everything is out of reach
I cannot attain
what others so easily do.
I took a wrong turn
on the wrong path.
From a long ago yesterday
I remember how
when they I knew, left
they went with my dreams of great adventures
pinned upon their backs
like wings
for my imagination
to fly,
and I felt abandoned
left behind
Now that so many have gone
at the departure lounge of the chapel
it can still make me feel
left behind
for now
surely
they must know
what I can only wonder about
with limited knowledge.
Many years later,
we meet again
to compare notes on Life.
We merely reiterate what has been writ
time and again for centuries,
except for the one whose life was study
he could only cite.
Life so short
full of many a long year.
Roused from
unperturbed unconsciousness.
Nothing.
Not even darkness,.
No world of people
nor my little world.
No thought,
no emotion,
no memory,
no state of mind
no autocratic God
no ambition
neither wants nor needs
no vain creating
no punishment nor reward
no tyranny of self.
O Anaesthetic release from life.
So,
bury me deep within the womb
of a mothering mountain
or wake the sleeper
who dreams me
and I will be gone.
Leaving
not even darkness.
I miss my Past's Future.
If I remember correctly,
I was happy there,
almost a King,
of good repute by deed.