we do not come lightly into this world
but squalling, wailing, dying we enter
and Begin.
my first breath is my last, conjoined by opposition, drawn in and up and over by unseen hands and uncompromising Nature.
Heaven is a place I’ve stood, a barrier, an edge –
the base prophecy of my nature, when all but the split atom has been stripped away.
there is a poverty undreamt by my flesh, that takes place in the mind.
a river ceased, removed slowly, by degree. the level of the waters thicker than the pace the rhythm keeps.
you tread no sunlight, bear no wind nor echo falling rain. the spell of twilight, the long, long day that happens only, by the way. volitional retreat and this, it’s all in passing…
so i ask you: drag me to unity, though i kick and scream. draw me into you until i burst my bonds. most merciful Delilah, cut my hair? these featherweights are murder, don’t you know?
how about a prayer for my salvation offered by a blind man with no wish to be king, no desire except desire, no wanting left to ring the bell of time’s precocious heart?
let no soft path cushion this blow but prop me on my own two feet and force the ground into my soul.
there is no other journey but the coming back to life. un-ghost me, just Delight. unhook the terror of an all too quiet night, which ripped my dress while i was crawling across your splintered floor.
clasped in the jaws of great indignity, i laugh because i cannot find anything else worthy of a verb. the pause, unstoppered now. the clause surrendered to the sentence and the form of form exhausted.
i relent.
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I very much like your perspective, CK. I think it’s Euripides who wrote something like: “Who knows whether life is not just a death – and being dead the real life?”
I think I’ll wait my turn to know it – if ever.
I’m too worn out today to write the kind of insightful analysis that this post deserves. But your words are exquisite as always. You should be paid for these posts. You are immensely talented. Thank you for bringing some linguistic beauty to my days!
I love your writing, it’s beautiful. Hope everything’s good, take care xx
I’m overwhelmed by the poetry in your words.
Such talent CK… You apply them with such skill, building up a vision of feeling.
“there is no other journey but the coming back to life. un-ghost me, just Delight. unhook the terror of an all too quiet night, which ripped my dress while i was crawling across your splintered floor. ”
This moved me and resonated somewhere so deep.
x
You honestly need to consider publishing your writings.
suspect this would require a publisher as crazy as i am… ;)
I honestly love this.
I’m reading backwards, your most recent post first, and I’m four behind. But seriously, people perform stuff like this, in poetry slams and Fringe Festivals. And way up here in Minnesota I believe I have heard that both flourish – fringe and slam – down under. Share yourself with them.
thank you all! am moved by your responses to this… now quit it ‘cos i’m getting all misty over here ;)
cheers for the encouragement, Paula. if i didn’t shake like a leaf in crowds these days it might be an option — with a very large box of Xanax in my back pocket. heh
meanwhile, it sounds like you speak from experience there… are you a poet/writer? artist? general creative type?
CK, your images move me. i can see the movements in the words that, like your others friends of reading say: is pure poetry.
You face death and give your back to it as well because you get inspired and have things to share with all of us. You put death to dance.:)
ika