everything changes
and nothing changes
winds shake the pillars of ages
seas disappear in the belly of time
receding into the dim light of forever
or waiting for another cycle
I’ve gone through life
untethered
unconnected
to the cheering crowds
hungry for my stories;
I wasn’t even aware that
I was the chosen one
or that my choices were,
in reality, someone else’s;
I often thought it was just a dream
or that I was a jester, a liar,
a shameless entertainer
posing as a philosopher
It takes someone coming back
from the dead to show you
that you’ve never figured out
how to live
breathing blackness
lungs full of nightmares
scorpions of fear in my throat
violins weeping their
bittersweet enchantment -
in the dusk’s smouldering fire
the paper moon
is going up in smoke;
dark leeches feed
on our wanton waiting
we reek of fresh blood
and indifference
we taste like blindness -
air, water, tears -
only loneliness is solid:
a black glass pyramid
filled with white lilies
and fragrant lies.
i tell myself
that i must begin writing this story,
finish it
then let it into the wind
so that it will dissipate the darkness,
perhaps be absorbed by other souls,
poison other dreams
and i shall be relieved
and continue my voyage
barefoot, my steps lighter,
no ghosts following me.
there is no separation
between thought and utterance
in the kingdom of words -
my mouth is full of silence
like wet cotton,
my days carry no light -
i am a puppet of hope,
i am moved by a god
who holds the strings
of cause and effect.
