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.