Monday, October 25, 2010

Five Shades of Cloud Shelter

Lost in the motion of the everyday swagger
Is the trembling that follows me around
Whenever I feel the tendency to go off-kilter
I stop myself before I hit the ground
I keep thinking it might be useful to
Substitute some false equanimity with real frustration
Spend another month or minute stuck in a steep climb

All I seem to do is avert my tears
I’m never ready for bunches of people
But they’re always around
I’m always ready for the right person,
But he or she can’t be found
All I seem to want to do 
Is be at my very best
Like Julian Assange, a 
Would-be prisoner or full-time pest
Annoying all the right people
Neglecting all the right places
Society is brimming with ennui
I lose myself by admiring the faces
(Of the bitterly apathetic, sourly jovial, 
Cheerfully vengeful, and spicily lacklustre)

*

A toy Viking sits on my desk
A souvenir from a place of great possibility and abundant mess
Outside my room, turbulent narratives made audible
Remind me I’m the only one
To have absorbed the dark streaks I have

The future audience, I see in you
The faith that you’re there is my gift to myself
The references and allusions to your generosity
Keep me awake
With a semblance of cheer
Keep me asleep,
My dreams manage my fear

Last night I dreamt that I was in a murder mystery
The body of the victim crawled towards its coffin
Climbing over grassy terrain
Death was her reluctant triumph
The sombre celebration
Instinctive calculation
The listlessness was mesmerising
She lay seductively still
Being drained of her enthusiasm for evading death
Going with the flow
The export of her energy beyond the confines of her body
Why am I writing about death?
Was my brush with aggressive infection
In Northern Europe so traumatic?
I’m as good as new, I dare contest
My ulterior motive to entertain by my arrest
Such restrictions have been placed over me
Such disapproval aimed at my mind and my body

No comments:

Post a Comment