Oh they wondered what the wind was for
scattering kernels upon dark floors
raising arms like fronds in breeze
calling troops of last frost seeds
rising now above their needs
they wondered -
had they sinned before?
shattered deeds perhaps, and maybe less
but maybe more than click of knees
cornered bent for scattered creed
locked and chasing seasons tease
and here now, hearing now the wind
feeling whispering, teasing,
wind.
Life is just exhausting but we must live it still
looking for redemption and a heart shaped pill
battered like a butterfly scared to jump from window sills
life is just exhausting but we must live it still.
Like the cracking walls we’ve built but never quite can fill
now like old-man’s cold and dragging fear of hills
there is a husk that won’t break open in the mill
like the cracking walls we’ve built but never quite can fill.
The choice is ours to make - I’m told we have free will
and someone also said, there are diamonds in the swill
maybe today we’ll celebrate our conquest of these ills
the choice is ours to make - apparently we have free will.
Sometimes feelings are the very hardest skill
like the hesitating rain before a suffocating chill
there are dark birds rolling like a wheel above a kill
and sometimes feelings are the very hardest skill.
And life is just exhausting and yes, we live it still
like cracking walls we build but never quite fulfill
the choice is ours to make we know we have free will
sometimes feelings, are the very hardest skill.
Like
faces
in a tear
raggededy
rough
as they are
the racing car
lamps of your eyes
tracing, scratching lines
towards the inward
imaginings of selfish ‘I’
whirling in surprise
chasing those that hide
already cold as shudders
break, like new waves in ice
across the movers and the lies
doggedly tough
as they are
like trapped sky cries
wrapped in furrows and twine
there, sighting cloudline
blistered gaze
falling now
with bow and rise
she’s a strange insect
flailing in a night jar
catching scent of moon
and twilight brings her soon
tell your pacing heart
these pulses, these flashes
these little arcs of light
they, are just
the start.