Early Saturday Morning... even the dogs asleep, caffine jucing my genes, I take this title and decide to let my mind really run free, to see what might come out...an experiment...don't try it: You will shock even yourself! here it is:
Held Together by a Thread
Tenuous at best our life consists
Locked daily in desolate straits
of time and need
of illusion and greed
of now not later,
Rushing and running through naked streets
filled with whores and yesterday's detritus
and grim realities of tomorrow.
Headlong, plunging blindly, grasping,
breathing in the filth of life,
grime and dark smears,
Black Eyes of souls, lifeless, irrelevant, mechanical, predictable, manicial,
Screaming:
Look at me
Give me
Affirm me
Notice me
My need, my hurt,
my, my, my
A sickening litany.
Waiting---for What?
Escape?
to what, to where, another place?
The Diner on the Dusty Desert highway maybe,
Where Freedom is an illusion,
littered with laughing voices, roaring, faster still?
Here?
Time, The Shadow, relentless in pursuit,
mocking our movements,
laughing hideously at all efforts of escape...
Stop! The Shadow waits, knowing we will move again
Running against its pursuit.....Do something! Now! It can't wait,
But What?
Doesn't matter---more---hold it together, it will melt
Move, Now, How?
Never mind... another knee-jerk reaction The Shadow expected as
Tricks in a mind unwound,
winding again,
won't work
the Thread winds tighter still
Then.....
Then, Silence
It sleeps
Motion ceased.
Time moves, silently against the backdrop of light,
Shadows of itself, as mental threads weave slowly
the Pattern of Another's choice
against all defense of will.
Fingers tire, release first
The heart quietens,
head light,
terror subsides
Temporary, only temporary
Smouldering, The Fire of Passion will burn again.
Soon.
Outside birds move in jerks, singing cheerless songs--they must sing their songs
Of what?
Who can tell...
And of us, of us,
Who can tell?
Lives, Held Together by a Thread.
March 29, 2008
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