Sunday, 21 June 2009

June 17th (1)

A fractured tibula
And a cracked forced smile
Bruised puckered flesh
Skirts riding up
Interlude to the orange tranquil twilight
Before rare sunlit gathering
All meat and innuendo
So we’re up to speed
But they’re not in the know
and the drip in MY vein ,
Killing me
is full of question marks not capital flow
I’ve cornered myself foursquare
Moments of short attention
Mornings of bridge crossings
The daily worship
And millennial pause for thought
Creeping skin puffy corpulent
Never settled
One only has oneself to blame
One only has oneself to praise
One only has oneself to raise
Beyond the limitations
Defy expectation
And don’t help tack down the lid on the coffin they gave you
City seeps sickness in through your eyes
Machines do too
No morality
No truth
Can stop that for you
No change of address
No flight
No careful studied ignorance will find the proof
That sits in you
Im acknowledging that
Fighting back
Music on my side
Rivers flowing through me
Merging, pooling
I accept myself
I'll be just fine
These failures will not stand as markers of my guilt
Ill rise above and find a space to fill until
I feel the rumble
Beyond the walls
That calls me to battle
That calls me to prayer
Fighting for the spirit of compassion
Resisting divisions
Refuse the hate we imprison ourselves in
That kills us stone dead and leaves the illusion of living

1 comment:

godwyns said...


one only has oneself to...
blame, praise, raise indeed.