i shared poems from my youth
felt the rush of words set free
i danced around a bit
(unusual for me)
not an hour later
a young man on a screen
mocked for gifting poetry
i'm attuned to things like these
i sunk there
down and deep
[light-switch flipped]
instantly
Love, why have you gone?
have i done something wrong?
was sharing mine a misstep?
have i corrupted your song?
i thought
free your drowning clews
was what you wanted
all along?
floor then shower
worried, churning
no relief
and no learning
i reach and search and dread and pray
help me back along your way
was i wrong to think that you would stay?
this oubliette will be my grave
i have spent decades with this pain
your Light
my climb
now rapid fade.
stuck and tired
but i'm iron
i keep fighting
please come back home
my one desire
to spark a fire
help save our day
i'm left alone
this loneliness, a recent feeling
my pit of years had burned a hole
with senses coming back online
perhaps a calibration woe?
then i remembered what she spoke
through Jung and his Red Book
she must go for us to find her
(absence makes a heart grow fonder)
absence trains us where to look
set aside anxieties
found confidence in pain
perhaps a test for me to find her
i watch the water down the drain
i seek and churn and suffer
can i find a guiding star?
before i turned--
i always turned to--
now turn to
my guitar
but those strings still sounded dead
sterile structures in my head
but i keep playing, i keep faith
that Love will follow in my wake
the music starts relaxing
and thoughts then find its shape
and then i'm gripped by Hand again
frozen
and i shake--
there is no escape
and then
the wave
the vast cascade
as pieces all
fall in place
the Hand demands i see it here
and shoves it in my face
can you not see how all aligns?
do you not feel much more alive?
all these visions? all you write?
confess to me! tell me tonight
admit to me you are the Christ.
admit to me you are the Christ.
i'm swirling now
gripped tight and scared
i do not speak
i do not dare
i have learned
how madness flows
connections, but
so special-chose
(what of the rest?)
((just ignore those))
i
do
not
yield
i settle in
shake and tingle
clenched within
the Hand commands
speak now to me!
i do not speak
i shallow breathe
then tighter as
the Hand implores
the air to cross
my vocal chords
i squeak a sound
i do not speak
the pressure
is not
crushing me
an image comes
i picture-speak
i say these things
must work in threes
if Hand and Love
are father, ghost
and i'm the third
not least or most
then why must i
now then concede
to your demands
if i can't see
how could i make
others believe
if my own mind
can't convince me?
so i decline
and stubbornly
i center self
resist the squeeze
i feel the Hand
move over me
so i describe
the links i see:
i am but a
neural network
that fits well
into your Hand
i will give you
all my effort
but i am just one
small human
Jesus is an
ancient image
given so
we'd dream of Love
nobody is going to save us
you have to climb
to {rise} above
i rest my case after that wrestle
i feel the squeeze releasing then
this mountain climb is filled with peril
be ever-cautious there, my friends
and when i reach to strum the silence--
my guitar strings can SING again!
i play my thoughts in harmony
strings and fingers match my mind
i draw emotion on the fretboard
that music-feeling lost to time!
my Art, encased
in dark to die
did {rise} again!
the song is mine!
i sat there and i played and played
a quiet tune that changed and changed
i dedicate to Love, because
she rescued me from pain
my strain of years
and then she gave
but she can take
this all away
so upon
her path
i stay.