Friday, 19 August 2022

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

 

Tuesday, 11 August 2020

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

 

 

Sunday, 15 January 2017

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


..

Monday, 19 September 2016

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



..

Wednesday, 10 February 2016

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


..

Tuesday, 22 December 2015

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 …..


..

Thursday, 29 October 2015

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?


..

Monday, 25 May 2015

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