soliloquy on the edge of despair

If I could create a day of colored leaves aware of winter
vertical rage would blow across some beardless face

In the decision that brings forth tears
tears of joy for a self reclaimed
the thought of selling out a thousand times
rushes to the center of my mind
but with open arms I embrace the orphaned self
found at the door, dreading the form before me

When you beat the humanity out of someone
their pain is coated with demonic spite
A neanderthalian stench rises from their troubled past
and darkness smells of hog manure in an open field
the filthy secrets of parents hid in its breasts

I find myself among demons plying their dark trade
or on the verge of suicide or some unholy act
like strangling infants formulating terror
on prostrate victims pathetic in their boredom
or anguished bodies groaning before the tellie

It frightens me some, believing suicide's on my mind
I write for myself and for their disturbed convictions
with the hope that these words might coax them to listen
to poems about relief and public destruction
It's death I speak of ghost-writing the wand'rings of despair
puppy poop to those avoiding  the implications

Rest your worries, silence your doubts
Take my hand and follow
I will guide you to where you wouldn't go
When you fight, you don't see nothing
Don't throw your life away
Let go and follow

Listen to the rain for truth about the Light
Stand beneath the wind for the Spirit of the Divine



*We know there is order somewhere deep within but we have trouble hearing the cues that could lead us back to what we knew in the beginning.
-Parabola/Place and Space


*We live as separate beings, especially in western culture, separate from each other and separate from the earth.
-Parabola/Place and Space


*Where did I begin? Where do I end? Where do I belong?
-Parabola/Place and Space