Caesura Cessation

// = caesura, although some conductors may also call them tramlines, railroad tracks or a cut-off. The sign means that there is a silent pause in the onward flow of the musical line

“You cannot create experience. You must undergo it” Camus

ThisOldFavourite#1:

Created = 19th March 2009

~*~BLESSINGS ON THE FROSTY POW OF ST. IGNATIUS~*~

(Inspired by Rabbie Burns)

It’s become a hunger, a need

Something I have to feed

No longer a dream space or a charm

It’s starting to feel

Like it’s causing me harm

It guides me when I’m not looking

It stalks out my weaknesses

And prises them open

Finding inside

All the lies and misguidedness

Festering there

It doesn’t care

It doesn’t discriminate

Like silent, steel-eyed witnesses

To an irreparable fate

±

Night after Night

Are they watching my back

Or enjoying the fight?

±

Some John Doe come rescue me

I’ll not push you for truth

I’m babbling

At the frustrated face of youth

I’m bubbling

I’m mumbling through

I’m worrying now, about

What I might do

Or say, or feel

Beyond feeling, beyond physicality

I know it’s not real

But it’s demanding and destructive

It’s loose and carefree

Beyond morals, beyond reasons

I know it’s beyond

Me

±

And if it’s not me writing…

Then… who can it be?

Are there answers

In the words

I’m now allowed to see?

Are they from my worlds and my thoughts

Or beyond my control

But within my comprehension

Now I am let go?

Are they now guiding me

To my next destination?

±

I keep stopping

At the same station

I keep finding

The same invitation

±

Day after day

Are they messages of madness

Or fashioned word play?

±

Some John Doe come rescue me

I’ll pull you from death’s jaws

I’m trying to crack the code

Figure out these laws

Still scared to ask

I’d envisaged clear solutions

Like

Little pots of gold

Quote

Unquote

Question Mark

Asked

Asked

Ask our selves

Our lives

Running low on time

±

And so to some conclusion

Or, at least, to some reform

Packed shelves

Of dreams, of alter egos

I’ve not yet tried on

Crashing through crises

Inventing life without scorn

Yet

Instinct after Instinct

One force rides

On

Galloping through histories,

Through bodies, through brains:

One master,

One slayer

Of unworldly gains

Even after deconstructing Eutopia

Still a brent brow remains

Advertisement

No comments yet»

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.