Playing on words
I never quite knew all the rules
Rules that measure the length of relevance,
The height of wit,
The diameter of compassion
The radius in the limb of a crooked figure painted on concrete floor and filled with all my aspirations, ideas and principles,
Principally useful for
Purposes of illustration
Hung on the wall of a station
We all pass through,
Commuting our sentences, like lifers in a rush
To conjugate and ink the period, dry and complete,
Writing their liberation, it’s all in the wrist,
And the strain is repetitive,
Unoriginal, derivative, infectious, contagious,
Franchised liability limited,
I’m gagging on orders that I haven’t received yet
Rejecting the recipe, one candidate not willing to be deceived yet
Maybe I just can’t perceive the need yet
To let sleeping dogs lie through ivory teeth
And shovel shit to feed death;
Death of Dreams
Death of Hopes
Death of Ideas
Death of Questions
Then stand in line to give thanks and blessings for the dividend
All the while shouting inside when will it end
I won’t bend, just to break
I’ll spoon against the gently sighing back of love
To find strength
I’ll embrace friendship in a crowded room or all alone in a telephone booth
To slit the throat of pretence
I’ll kiss belief on the cheek
As we meet to travel,
Passports in the pockets of the clothes on our back
To choose vulnerability over defence
Determined Self Ignited Burning
A carbomb in the embassy of cynicism
And I’ll walk away,
Shake the hand of family in a gift shop and find my niece a present
A past, a future, gift wrapped,
With a bow and a quiver of arrows shaped like sunsets
Quivering, racing, rushing to catch themselves again and paint the world
In new colours on a canvas of sky
And just this once I don’t think I’ll keep the receipt
I’ll screw it up and toss it away with all my grief,
Every shot glass of sorrow, Every pint of self-pity,
Shed like hangover sweat,
Remembering the right to forget
And to care again and let go of regret
Appreciate the grace that invites respect
To the party of a lifetime; No dress Code, No Guest List
No pumpkins at midnights chime
Cinderella will go to the ball and stay until six in the morning
Making love and conversation under canopy awnings
And the mouth of destiny sis yawning
Open, choose to step in and keep the lions roaring
Even for one day
Better that than a thousand as lambs
I walk eternity balanced on a grain of sand
And chase Mercury, Never blame the stars or planets
Stride purposefully, along the surface of my insecurities
And stay standing, never branding self as property,
Never give dominion or monopoly to the anything but the light within me, a child of verbs, reborn in each action
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
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1 comment:
Its Brilliant....utterly. Krissy
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