A theory of chaos: overload in 4D

 

It’s been long, since

I’ve tried to put my mind to paper

A transparency that does not exist

 

Invisible as I still am

Within these dimensions

I grieve the recognition

Of so many

 

That hidden path to all

And my unbearable incapacity

To find only You

 

To exist

 

A wind flows through this fortress

Bent on finding release

Where through the slits deception seeps in

Fighting for dominion

 

This present breath is sustenance

Pulsing inspiration through the halls

To every room that needs it

 

A single loop of air

Is a vacuum’s ventilation

 

 

Meanwhile, back on earth

Meanwhile, back on earth

Pirate girl made another wish to safe the world,

the days stretch their shadow a little longer,

and light diffuses its goal

We are just not into all that malarkey,

Ayden said,

and jumped at the chance

to throw it all away

Here’s to all the saints and sinners

who clearly don’t know

what it is to talk the fine line

in between glee and fury;

to play the good wife,

the daughter, the sister and the soul

and bend so many trait rules,

the pages of the book that knows it all,

curl up in chalkboard agony

And so the story goes

up in wind and down like confetti

blinding a world into thinking it just snows

..

What if

What if

The water will overflow and cause a flood, taking everything with it

What if

Everything is all I have

What if

My swimming arms get heavy with melancholy muscle, and decide to go on strike

What if

The ocean (we call it that now) decides to break the shore?

What if

The pieces that I desperately try to hold together, drift apart

What if

I cannot find the glue (or clue) within me

What if

I am separated from myself, like debris from a disaster

What if

I am (that disaster)

What if

There isn’t enough warmth to dry the land

What if

The sun –that I should salute- burns every little thing I treasure?

What if

I am not like a phoenix

What if

I am

..

In retrospect

It is trauma, he said

And made is sound as if it was all normal

But it wasn’t

Not to me

Not just then

I wear my watch 24/7, no exclusions

My watch is my lifeline

It keeps me sane

My ticking clock

Crowds no longer attract me

I avoid them like the plague

I used to be the fastest walker

Now I saunter

Watching them all steer clear of my stroll

Makes me candidate to a potential fall

And I can’t run away

Loud sounds, are shivers down my spine

Music on low or not at all

When I don’t know what’s coming

Silence is my only bearing

I never had that magical moment

Where time stood still

And all was mute

That trick of the mind

Closing-up to adjust, to cope

I’ve never been at that centre space

Where there was nothing, but prolonged time

Before the storm took hold

Instead I fell into raging sounds of breaking

And watched it all revolve

And pain, oh God the pain

I never lost it

Everything kept coming

And it still unfolds

So I wear my watch 24/7, no exclusions

My watch is my lifeline

It keeps me sane

My ticking clock

My beating heart

I am alive

..

Accidents happen / happen / happen / happen

(This one without poet license. This one with ranting license. Beware! ) 

In a parallel universe

I would have overslept

that day

and I would have been an hour late at work

and gotten into trouble for it

but I would have been ok.

In another parallel universe

I would not have overslept

and would have been taken to the hospital

right after the accident

instead of too late

And I would have been ok, eventually.

In yet another parallel universe,

the emergency room of the hospital

would have scolded my GP,

for sending me for x-rays ten days late

Then, they would advice me to stretch my leg

as far as possible

before putting me in a cast from hip to toe

and I would have been ok-ish, eventually.

In yet another parallel universe,

at day 13,

the hospital personal would have listened

and recognised what I said and what they saw

when they removed the cast in emergency

And I would have had a last chance, to be ok, in near-ish future

In yet another parallel universe,

at day 23,

the hospital personal would have noticed

the bruises and sores and hyper sensitive nerve endings,

after taking off the second cast

and they would have acted accordingly

And I would have been ok, after 6 months, or so.

Instead of one year later

…. and going / going / going / going …..

..

Perfecting Imperfections

I should celebrate the turn of events

that broke me, accidently,

earlier this year

A grant plan in the bigger scheme;

controlling my unstoppable motion,

silencing my knee-jerk fear

of never getting up once seated

… And now I sit 

… and all I do is wonder

… How do I stand it?

… How did I?

..

After all

It is a bit of a useless feeling

U s e l e s s

Contributing to nothing, really

A bit like me …

But that is a useless feeling

Eating away any lingering usefulness

Like a shadow of crows

Landing on a field of reaped sunflowers