I seem to be in the essence of it now. there lies a pile of work I must reduce, complete and eliminate, and hear I am sprawled on my bed on yet another stagnating Sunday. and yet again as the end of this day comes I will wish I had completed all that work according to the several timetables I made over yet another 5 day holiday now wasted!!!
It courses through my veins
makes me leave the scatters of my life littered around
accumulating the fungus of my fermented brain
until I feel the melt into stoic complete
innate inertia
the undulating pleasure of sprawling over a tomorrow
in exchange for a snatch of sleep
ah! The indelible bliss of postponement
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Home
When someone tears open what has formed part of your protection, your sanctity, your space, for so long- it has become part of your consciousness- what do you do?
You stand there exposed, naked in the light of a harsh truth, so harsh and so truthful that you fight in your mind to deny its existence at all. You have been hit so hard that the stinging of the blow becomes a numbing agent to your senses. And yet your senses stand alert, as they soak in sights, sounds, scents and thoughts which make your blood curl in sorrow, anger and finally helplessness, as you drench in all that is falling apart around you.
Your mind battles between exposure and closure, like a trawler on a bad tide, and your senses slice open all that you are trying to hide.
You watch as they rip apart what has formed part of home under your skin- and they rip through your skin too- but so finely you don’t realize, as your brow furrows in suspicion and loss of trust, your fists clench in anger and your heart skips in fear. It could have been you. And before you know it, what formed your cocoon is slowly falling apart, piece by piece, as you turn your suspicious eyes to distrust what covered your back.
You thus decide to rationalize, you analyze and theorize, hoping to find reason in figures and facts, and you form your own pattern together in your head, and some emerge the hero’s, imagination clad in red capes and encouraging fist- and others the black marked villains, the virile who must be reckoned with.
You decide to blame, to find a source and a cause, and you find a target to thrust upon the cause of these monstrosities that you have seen and heard and are casting a looming shadow upon your visage.
You sometimes let good reason and better judgment convolute in your head, with trepidation, just to find the relief of an answer to your dry aching throated questions. And you gulp down that lump of guilt that comes along with your uselessness.
But sometimes your theories fall upon a smarter vein, and you are able to see those fine black lines that connect one power holder to the next. There it all stands, shameless in its symbiotic relation, and you are left the scruffy bonds of faith which you thought were reliable lucrative investments to make in the goodness of people.
And sometimes your denial is enforced with the power to consume, and it turns your reaction into a well fractioned shoulder shrug, a rapid banter of stating your immunity and ability to be resilient while deep inside you shiver to well beyond the cranium of your brain.
You decide to see a softer side to the demons of that destruction, deconstructing them in your head. Yet each time you hear of them your mouth becomes a twisted smile to hear of their mutilated deaths. You shimmer your mind into logical analysis and detachment yet a stray wave of memory sends you over brimming again. You seeth in anger at those power chains that weigh you down to societies ground, and you writhe to break free, until your consumed by fear of pain and being struck, and then you accept them once again.
You are fine. And yet you are not. You are reconciling opposites.
You stand there exposed, naked in the light of a harsh truth, so harsh and so truthful that you fight in your mind to deny its existence at all. You have been hit so hard that the stinging of the blow becomes a numbing agent to your senses. And yet your senses stand alert, as they soak in sights, sounds, scents and thoughts which make your blood curl in sorrow, anger and finally helplessness, as you drench in all that is falling apart around you.
Your mind battles between exposure and closure, like a trawler on a bad tide, and your senses slice open all that you are trying to hide.
You watch as they rip apart what has formed part of home under your skin- and they rip through your skin too- but so finely you don’t realize, as your brow furrows in suspicion and loss of trust, your fists clench in anger and your heart skips in fear. It could have been you. And before you know it, what formed your cocoon is slowly falling apart, piece by piece, as you turn your suspicious eyes to distrust what covered your back.
You thus decide to rationalize, you analyze and theorize, hoping to find reason in figures and facts, and you form your own pattern together in your head, and some emerge the hero’s, imagination clad in red capes and encouraging fist- and others the black marked villains, the virile who must be reckoned with.
You decide to blame, to find a source and a cause, and you find a target to thrust upon the cause of these monstrosities that you have seen and heard and are casting a looming shadow upon your visage.
You sometimes let good reason and better judgment convolute in your head, with trepidation, just to find the relief of an answer to your dry aching throated questions. And you gulp down that lump of guilt that comes along with your uselessness.
But sometimes your theories fall upon a smarter vein, and you are able to see those fine black lines that connect one power holder to the next. There it all stands, shameless in its symbiotic relation, and you are left the scruffy bonds of faith which you thought were reliable lucrative investments to make in the goodness of people.
And sometimes your denial is enforced with the power to consume, and it turns your reaction into a well fractioned shoulder shrug, a rapid banter of stating your immunity and ability to be resilient while deep inside you shiver to well beyond the cranium of your brain.
You decide to see a softer side to the demons of that destruction, deconstructing them in your head. Yet each time you hear of them your mouth becomes a twisted smile to hear of their mutilated deaths. You shimmer your mind into logical analysis and detachment yet a stray wave of memory sends you over brimming again. You seeth in anger at those power chains that weigh you down to societies ground, and you writhe to break free, until your consumed by fear of pain and being struck, and then you accept them once again.
You are fine. And yet you are not. You are reconciling opposites.
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