EXISTENTIALISM
And there pigeon lay
blood dripping off tips of feathers
glazed eyes wounded
A passerby filed passed
an angry little boy kicked
venting rage of a lifetime
stuck in a township flat
......
every day, i'm heading closer;
life forcing me to push my own heavy boulder.
stuck in an endless loop like sisyphus;
feeling tortured on this earthly abyss.
i did not expect for life to be like this.
I don’t want to be a study.
A lone sun-bleached fossil
Fine, but before you remove me and dissect, let me rest a while.
A millennia past, a millennia future.
That’s what I want.
As the waves lap closer and closer to my
Wind-eroded calcium chest-plate.
So, leave me to weather a while longer.
To rest in the place between,
......
Learning
Yearning
Tossing and Turning
What is the point of anything if this world will end up burning?
We turn serious matters into a joke
To some folk the air they breath
Is the thing on which they choke
The book of life, so to speak, specifies not to be "unequally yoked"
Does not this same book read that love bears all things?
Where is the line, who's to say that we actually understand the construct of time
......
I have raked the coals
Of what passes for my soul
Stoked it into ire
I cannot perne in a gyre
The seas no longer crowded
Earth smells like a burning tire
We live so close to death
That we may awaken yet
It seems right not to consume
To live as dead until breath seems like theft
......
EXISTENTIALISM
And there pigeon lay
blood dripping off tips of feathers
glazed eyes wounded
A passerby filed passed
an angry little boy kicked
venting rage of a lifetime
stuck in a township flat
......
I don’t want to be a study.
A lone sun-bleached fossil
Fine, but before you remove me and dissect, let me rest a while.
A millennia past, a millennia future.
That’s what I want.
As the waves lap closer and closer to my
Wind-eroded calcium chest-plate.
So, leave me to weather a while longer.
To rest in the place between,
......
The call: he calls.
Tartarus enchants.
But not a person, nor a place.
A state.
Of matter? Of being?
Hard to say. But he calls.
I am certain Tartarus is a ‘he’
Though I’ve never met him.
How could I have?
......
When time splits in two...
One you're looking for and one looking for you
You're waiting for someone you don't know yet
And you're not getting any younger
You've captured the rhyme but lost the poetry
The road seems bleak but familiar
A refugee from the you you used to be
And a pilgrim on the road to destiny
To fortify you resupply with fortitude and grace
......
A blind crow
Lodged in the woods
Amidst darkness
Winging its way through the blackish sky
A cursed surrounding of no delight
The Nowhere Land
The very realm of doom
Where the night is said
To seize every bloom
......