April 20, 2012

poem 136 of a poem a day for 2012 (NaPoWriMo24)


somewhere blue in the night

beneath the skin
of every moment
beneath every breath
of thought reaching
with outstretched fingers
past that which chains
me to time
is where I lie
and wait for
salvation and its
funny bubble tummy tonic

I barely want to get up
in the morning these days
barely able to amble
past the vast
spicy-food-before-bed
induced color frenzy dreams
constantly changing play rhythms
a continuum with strings, these things
these vignettes spinning
wheels of chance encounters
continually feeding me
in flashes and dashes back
to my secret safe-houses of words
along a childhood rushed and
hushed quickly to adulthood
to veil another paradise lost

I like to linger and see
just how far my will, will venture
into these caves of my insanity
just how far my skin will ripen
into a mask of truth today

EJR ©

1 comment:

  1. I can't even find the words to tell you how much I love this one. '...my secret safe-houses of words...' connects so much with me and your last stanza brings an image both beautiful and terrible to mind. Thank you for sharing Edward.

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