I don’t want this future

Sand flurries through these fingers.
Time crumbling away.
I stand motionless, allowing the wind to rattle my bones.
A cobweb in my mind tightens.
The earth shakes and my moon falls.
I want to return, go back. Sit and wait on the edge of existence.
Dip my feet into the pool on unknowing.
All the mysteries have answers.
All the faces now have frowns.
These clothes, this skin; all illusionary trinkets to dazzle and distort.
A box, a prison I have dug for myself.
My temptation tiptoes into time, and takes me away.
Above the towns and the moments I made.
I return to the tree from where I fell.
Safe and secure like a nut underground.
Buried and forgotten by last year’s squirrel.
I sit and wait, casting eyes up to the heavens.
Allow for the rains to wash it all away.
Soaking it deep in my veins to breathe a new now.
With my future, yet unwritten.
Writing in the coal I’m turning to diamonds.

Advertisements

Heavy like clouds

Rough stone, as cold as our hearts that hurt.
Weathered by the life we chose. Dropped into the pool of time.
Weighing down. Hard like bones in our stomach.
From the meaty dreams devoured in youth.
Rain upon a fertile mind, where the weeds and willows weep.
And where cacti bloom in the drought of purity.
Our own selves, no longer true as a shadow of regret reminds;
that we’re locked and dying in the jaws of time.

Trailing reality

Where did you find me?
Where the willows whisper?
That quiet place where they weep.
Falling over the side of the world.
Don’t make a sound if you’ve come here for that.
Sit quietly and rock the sands of time in your hand.
Back and forth, like a spirit on a sea.
Breathe in this peaceful frozen moment.
And let go of my hand.
You can turn away and leave me be.
Slip out the side of the planet and disappear into the stars.
I was content here alone.
Dipping my toe out of reality.
Fear not the monster at my feet.
That had slithered out the tranquil pool where you caught your own reflection.
I know its ways.
All his tantrums and toil.
It’s all crocodile tears these days anyhow.

Down within

Down to the water’s edge.
Beneath the willow and the sadness.
He stopped his world for a while.
No hand to pull him back.
Only invisible fingers pushing him forward.
Reeling in his mind like spinning wheels.
He lay on the cold bank.
Shedding his tears into deeper pools.
Pouring out his misery and loneliness.
Until he drowned the flying fish.
An ice crept across the water.
Licking his bones and sealing his eyes tight.
His heart caught between a beat and a break.
Hurrying this ice-age that would sweep the world away.
Yet he does not dwell unobtainably with the gods.
Or at the end of a book to placed on the shelf.
His small pool of sorrow lies within.
Every time the change of seasons ring.
Each day your body sways and splits..
He aches once more for the shore.