Down Down, Deeper and Down.

1000 Miles.

One thousand miles, down,

Darkness,

The jaw-ache of rushing air.

Intense cold, muscles cramping.

No visual impression, occasional mists,

Skin pushed tight onto bones.

Faster than possible, falling,

Spinning, air rushing,

No, it doesn't take long to finish a thousand miles.

Screaming, intense cold, darkness,

Your stomach several hundred feet behind you,

Tumbling out of control, rushing jaw,

Intense mists, tight faster air, rushing intense,

Occasional miles, skin down, spinning, finish,

Possible falling, intense skin, one thousand bones,

Cramping screams, intense falling, rushing,

Falling visual mists, spinning skin faster....

Is the fall killing me, or am I ?

 

The Wall

As your soul spirals away,

Helical plughole extraction,

The cracked heart sinks,

Leaving the empty vessel.

You build walls, bars to more pain,

To the outside, self-defeating,

Self-defence, isolation switch,

No current, no charge, no spark,

No power, no light.

But walls restrict your view,

Unless you lie to yourself,

And decorate them with mirrors.

A cry for help, muffled, walled,

A spiral of mirrors, inward punishment,

Dark times, dead soul, empty, sunk,

Cracked, damaged, powerless and alone.

Reach out, and feel the cold glass,

Where should be warmth and love.

Stop lying to yourself and demolish,

Breaking glass, stone and steel,

Let the sunlight fill the space,

And extinguish the punishing helix.

Walking Way Back When.

Did you ever really know?

The rabbits might have gone,

But landslide sentries are still here,

Squirrels few, a cock pheasant, a hen,

A slow swirlwind of memories,

And love.

Time out.

No heron-stalking, just flooded ground,

Massive water-flow, a soggy challenge,

Underfoot, and muddy dogs,

Cold, but contracted to be a survivor,

You too, with your thousand miles.

Did you ever really see?

The foxes, and rabbits, long gone,

The hollow I once saw an owlet,

Now over-grown,

Dead and brambly.

My life?

A scarred tree, another name,

A ghost squirrel moment,

Skittering across the cliff face,

Parental caution,

And a love, eternal, but nevertheless,

Dead, deaf, crippled.

Where did all the rabbits go?

Consider yourselves spared. I am not fit company, and reading some of the older stuff, realise now that I probably never was. I would write all of the misery out of my system if I could, and boy oh boy do I realise that there are billions of people who have it far harder than me, this isn't the cry for help, this is the autobiography of. Of what? 

The first word that came into your head, is the one I live with daily. Sad isn't it?

 

 As in the previous post, notwithstanding that one has a visible date, these are from a thirty year time-frame, so reinforcing where I'm coming from. No, as far as I know I am soooo not related to Morrissey.

One, and only one was written in the last year.