a
slightly hidden voice
did
you trample the daisies on the way out
did
you find the key hole in the sands of time
did
you mine the stage-craft
with
pratfalls and raised eyebrows
did
you know how succulent the lies
would
be to your eyes
before
turning to desert sonography
in
a maze of clever quiet whispers
I
am sure of nothing these days
except
for the question of why
a
question, which has plagued me
since
I can remember
coal
sluice alleyways
cramped
apartments and
being
left alone
for
long stretches of time
I
have no idea
of
what forever feels like
but
I can guess
it
has more to do
with
hunger than starvation
I
break every mirror
that
catches me
just
to dare bad luck
to
find a way past
my
inner old man and the sea
you
see, inside us all
is
that great what if
the
purported purpose
of
meaning something
beyond
simple bliss
beyond
what a kiss
can
do to seal a fate
or
unlock any door
you
might remember
being
left behind
scratching
and clawing
wading
into the fine parts
of
salvation calling out
every
name but yours
in
the songs
of
sleeping flowers
and
the trillions of stars
poking
through the night sky
EJR
©
As sad as this makes me feel, it's still a wonderful piece of writing. This is the poet i know.
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