What can you find
In the depths of the
Woods
Where the
Magic
Lays
No one
Can resist the
Woods
Another beautiful day
Come,
Hither,
To the place
Where trees
Whisper
And Listen to you
The one and only place
Where anybody
Takes you
Seriously
Listen
Silent
Shhh
Thankfulness for the present moment
envelops my heart strings,
plucking out a song of pure gratitude
as the grace of a new beginning
bleeds out a fresh transfusion,
invigorating this body of flesh
with a smile from the source
directly through my soul,
reminding me that everything, right now, is perfectly at peace.
More at http://17numa.wordpress.com/.
Why do
You still
Leave
After all of these Years
Of mourning
And convincing
Your Spirit lies here
And yet you
Go
The message is clear
Run away
Away from your troubles
Away from your life
Away from yourself
And then you ask
Who am I?
What has become
Of the boy
Who ran away
What has become
Of the child in his
Heart
And what has become
Of the sparkles of the
Soul
And never again
Will he walk
Upon the
Lands
Of this land
As himself
Go, run
Run away from the child
The child inside you
Who threatens to beat you
With the guilt
Oh, the guilt
And never have you seen
The horrible terribleness
Of the
Screams
Of guilt
And there
A child
Destroyed.
Torrents
Whirlpools
Destruct
Destroy
Never again
Be a boy.
No Fountain of Youth
No Stream of Spirit
Will ever
Remake
This boy
And say
Goodbye
Whilst you can.
A thousand feather-tips
tickling my Soul’s edges, silly.
Contentedness
almost like drunkenness,
in from the cold
and stamping my feet
enthusiastically
upon the welcome
doormat of home.
An appetite fit for a King
and a Head & Heart
filled with a love
almost to the point of bursting.
More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.
In the sea, I awoke,
wet, under the sun,
taken into time by
the lord of anxiety.
Grief and instability covered my skin
like the suction of an octopus’
tentacles. It held me, carried me down
below where the pressure is unbearable,
and strange fluorescent creatures thrive.
I landed on the sand-smoky floor, without
a spoonful of oxygen, murdered by an immutable force.
I died that day, chained to the nadir of my zodiac-
once a living woman, now chewed at by tiny mouths,
soon to fossilize in this wet, unsentimental grave.
More at http://www.allisongrayhurst.com.
I turn off the lights then I turn on the radio
I lay on the floor and my eyes are drawn to the window
I guess you never knew that it’s my daily attitude
I avoid meeting people outside
’cause I don’t wanna mix their voices with yours in my head
I walk with a blindfold around my eyes
cause I don’t wanna distort your picture in there
they think I’m living alone but I’m not lonely
they ask how can I communicate with the walls but I’m not crazy
maybe my way to live is kinda strange
but it’s my only issue to still remain alive
and despite the pain that burns me inside
I never think of leaving this world
the world, which contains my star!
to sleep in the night, I imagine you here
covering my body with your love and caressing my long dark hair with
your sweetness.
I cannot detach myself from my bed in the morning
if I cannot imagine your lips tickling my cheeks
and your words warming up my heart
I never have breakfast, lunch or dinner
If you are not around my kitchen, hugging my back and singing BABY YOU
ARE MINE
I know that I’ve got all the symptoms of a psychopath girl
and if you try to kick me out of this fantasy
I’m gonna be a dangerous criminal out of control
‘Cause you are my cocaine
and my life without you is like a Halloween
they ask why my eyes are always closed do I have to see a doctor?
I just reply that I’m filming a movie in which I’m the principal
director
and if you want to watch it, you have to buy your ticket at the
cemetery
gather around my grave the day of my death with my dreams
but don’t forget to recount me the end of my movie
‘Cause even when I’m the producer
I don’t have the right to chose the Farewell of my virtual story…
Already twenty two years has passed since the first day I opened my
eyes
and to confirm that I’m alive
The doctor slapped my butt then I cried
everyone was happy and mom smiled
but for me it was just the beginning of an eternal war
they thought I cried ’cause I felt hurt
but they didn’t know that I never wanted to come
it wasn’t my decision, and no one asked my opinion
Did I say I wanna join your world?
Did I knock mom’s tummy and beg her to take me away?
I’ve never complained of living with many ovaries in the dark
I’ve never felt lonely, never felt sad
and honestly I was pitying those who have been chosen before me
their lives aren’t better than mine anyway
’cause actually we’re all on the same side
living with nothing
running over nothing
fighting for nothing
well we are the twins of mister nothing… I tried to convince myself
that I could make a change
I tried to believe that I could seduce tomorrow
I tried to believe that I’m gonna be a hero
I tried to believe that I could manipulate life like my shadow
but I didn’t know that I’m gonna be manipulated by my shadow
I never knew that once they arrest you in life’s prison
you can’t never ever be freedom
And if you ask the reason for this cruel decision
they will tell you your birth was crime
and once you are here there is no way to look back
I was born to live alone
I was born to be my parent’s robot
I was born to please everyone
I was born to marry mister pain
in other words I was born to be your marionette
dress my body like a clown
makeup my face like a vampire
then throw me in your unfair empire.
I’m your puppet and I accept to pay for a crime that I’ve never
done.
’cause of you I breath injustice to survive
and I drink tears to still be alive…
“Pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will . . .” Antonio
Gramsci
At the strategy meeting to invert
The established order
Coffee and cookies are served
In attendance are a dozen or so persons
Who do not need a weatherman
To tell us that something
Is horribly wrong
After much discussion
We fashion an excellent plan
For an action of virtually no significance
That will likely go completely unnoticed
By the general public
And have no effect
On the powers and principalities
We will sit blocking the entrances
To some ponderous edifice
Until after a couple of hours
The police cart us away
We may spend a little time in jail
But probably not
And all will return to
What has come to be called normal
However
There is method in our insignificance
Because we know deep in the origami folds
Of our ancient memory
That for thousands of years
Ordinary people whose identities have evaporated
Like dew from early morning grasses
Have been committing acts of resistance
That are now unremembered
And we know that those seemingly ephemeral actions
Do not vanish
But accumulate in a growing mass
Each fraction of a gram
Added to the bulk of all the others
Until the day finally comes
When the weight is great enough
To flip the world
And none of us can say for certain
Tomorrow will not be that day
While aversely obliging
decadent demands
of the reigning, endorsed affluent
an internal voice howls
interposingly loud
and insists I really shouldn’t:
“pitiful, weary worker
Coerced, uncaringly ordered,
and damned by upper class rules
will you ever tire
of being a servile martyr…
of acquiescently singing the blues?”
Yet indignantly yielding I remain,
for on the altar of entrenched conformity
sacrificed is this entrancing sound
of truth and reason by an ear-piercing,
reticent silence en masse.
