Posted: April 10, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , ,

Wanting to be more than I am,
Worthy of love and independent risk assessment,
Not a looser, not a winner just human as contributor to this whole mess,
Of systems and communities and communities of systems.
Someone worthy of the word love spoken over the body,
When this word is spoken the body breaks free and dances with myriad possibilities,
But who will speak the word if I am afraid of pretty girls,
A no-one not a some-one lost in purple paranoia and deadhead daydreams,
Saying nothing to avoid saying the wrong thing.
My ducks are not in a row- they have flown away.
Etchings and etchings inside of etchings in an endless repeating mirror pattern up to the sky.
I see this fractal monstrosity now and when I close my eyes.
Each moment is turned over, inspected and questioned iteratively,
And under it all chaos predominates among the powers, beauty burns eternally and I dream of dying and coming back to life as a zombie again and again and again.

  1. turhonmcdowell says:

    speechless. FUcking wow

    Liked by 1 person

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