Thursday, July 30, 2015

The Rules

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I wish God had sat me down, and explained to me The Rules.
Of the babe I would be, raised by parents I couldn’t choose, a different path for everyone, in a locale which I have no say over.
To then choose a direction I wish to take, with the scars and childhood bruises that have formed my way of thought.
And no matter how hard I try to direct my environment and circumstances, life has a way of doing things its own way, and I’m nothing but a pawn.
That I would search for answers and explanations of the trite and the deeply meaningful, gain knowledge and insight and hopefully grow to be a fair, considerate and consequential human being, able to care for and guide those who He has chosen to place into my care.
To be left with the dark question of my own mortality, with only faith and belief for the hereon ever after. There is no proof of where I’m going, that what I’m doing even matters, and I am caught up in this Game, with no way out but the way The Rules of Life dictate.
If God had sat me down, and explained to me The Rules, would I have opted to play The Game?  I honestly don’t know…

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Ring, Ring, Telephone Ring

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It’s the ring of the telephone,
hollow, foreboding in a nuance
the rising hairs on the back of your neck
freeze time in the most unpleasant way.

To hear the hellish message
a distorted line twists in your gut,
as the darkness reaches right into you,
through your skin, right into your heart.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

The Rolling Waves

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Torn in two, the moon shines down on me
in its eternal impasse between the darkness and the light,

reaching, clamouring, to reach the other side that waxed
oblivion into their hearts, and the waves just kept on rolling...

Saturday, July 25, 2015

My Footprints in the Sand

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The beach is deserted, it’s a cold wet midweek morning.
The cliffs dissolve behind a silver cloak of lonely tears.
Seagulls drift on currents in a blue grey sky that’s falling
towards crashing waves that swell with the depths of our despair.

I don’t emit a presence, emptiness displaces conscious thought,
and the waves keep coming closer, with foaming arms, they reach for me,
for I am this landscape, the wild cold wind, the storm,
and I assail this shore with the singular purpose,

to erode my existence of the impermanent impact
of my footprints in the sand.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

The Collapse of Reason

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Eyes ice-cold bore into black holes as you spew a mound of drivel contrived
in a mind twisted by the reality of your chemical dreams,
to become a torrent of abuse, snuffed of every semblance of judgement
you ever may have had, as you lay blame onto fate, on the “cruel, cruel world”,
and you appeal to a misplaced alliance that once existed, so you can take me down
into your own netherworld, since you don’t want to go alone.

There is no romance in self-destruction, no loyalty amongst thieves,
thus I reject every inference of association we once had
as our ties were severed the day you chose to lose your soul
and I chose to find mine.  You cannot now bind yourself to me.

But as intensely as I believe all that I have written, there is no conscious thought
between sanity and the collapse of reason. Because a hand I can’t feel
picks up the bag to walk into a graffiti-coloured hell, but my mind can’t comprehend,
it’s already gone.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

The Well of Guarded Impulses


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With the veil of darkness she shrugs off the written words
racing across her naked skin,
primed she stretches, an inscrutable smile on her lips,
she accepts, chooses to take the road that leads back to you,
a pronouncement more appealing than the need to breathe each breath, in, out.

With a wail of release, the unsaid leapt from the well
of carefully guarded impulses,
echoing through every dream that colours the night sky black,
she sinks into the perfect pleasure exposed by the double-sided knife,
that severs her existence in unison with the dawn.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Here In The Forest Dark And Deep

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“Mercy, have mercy! My soul is tearing through the wilderness
and howling with the wolf who is my constant shadow.
Whom I track with unbridled vigour for I can feel his scrutiny
focussed on the object he knows will bow down, acquiesce to his bidding,
who with his scent will feel my smile of lust on his skin.
He is pushing me to the boundary, he is drawing me to the edge…”

His eyes flash an implicit pledge, as he watches her from the edge of the trees
that marks the division of our sins.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

Friday Nights

Vibrations increase in intensity,
a hum that’s getting deeper and more persistent,
building a steady crescendo towards broken expectations.

The records stops at 3.32 am
when the dead of night roars at its loudest.

A solitary figure on the sidewalk with green hazy eyes
walks one slow step at a time, looking for a silence that’s a foreign concept
to her shady mind, ever restless.