I am the morsel
A chatter box, blah blah
I’ll have a laugh
Forget the past
Those days that are now in ruins
And tears still run
Still come to visit
At times that are not appropriate
They are just calling cards
Markers of doused flames
And now the mist lays down
When birdsong punctuates
Silence and blank thoughts
Which are pre-cursors
To another day in flight
My shoulders rounded, I am hunched
As instructed
Facing away from a man
With sharp steel in his hand
The cold eye of that needle
Contains unsentimental fluid
Poised and loaded with the logic
That will take me away
Before long I am gone
Off into a prayer
My ignorance all wrapped
In total and utter surrender
There could be bird-song
For I am tethered to air
Or the soft parting of warm lovers lips
I am gone
Take me and render me
Your clinical skills
Your cold hearted craft
Are now beyond natural law
Get over it
I am the hole in my entirety
A doubt in the mass of humanity
Each breath I take, a rehearsal
For another crack at dismal
I am tension in taught wires
A cough in the orchestra pit
All of me spot-lit and disappearing
In simpering pools of shame
On some well trodden stage
Flecked with dust and grease paint
The motes of haunted fabric
Gauzy in the lights
And I wait
For somebody to find me out
A specialist of the shadows
A spectre of the show
To heckle
And shout my name.
Not lost. Not yet
Not still, one voice
But the eyes on the soul
Are listening
And from this the change may come
From the many dwellings
A troubled mind inhabits
Only the promise of a cacophony
Will spoil the view
And guarantee a war
Hostages may be the prize in battles
But internal feuds
Feed on the choicest victim
For mercy is a distant flag
That flutters behind the walls of shame
Own up to the one small voice
In stillness. The mute salute
A call that circles out beyond
Everything that scares you
Embrace it all and bring it home.
