A lost memory of fantasies gone by,
grains of sand beneath a clear topaz sky.
Whilst searching for the forgotten glass
worn away and tossed at last
I found truth hidden in the shining light
an abundance of wisdom,
so glaringly bright.
Shell of the seahorse
the ebbing moon has bought,
through all the years I dreamt I caught,
now you come,
when it’s frosted glass I sought.
The universe today, a message it taught.
Have you ever watched the intrinsic
workings of an introverts soul?
We hide deep within the shadows
listening as shoes are worn tread bare.
We scuttle through raindrops
feeling the celestial embrace upon our skin.
We roar into empty skies at twilight
with the moon caressing silent thoughts.
But if you look real close,
if you pay attention to our inaudible beat,
you can see us skipping across powder puff clouds
of white searching in emerald skies of blue,
dancing to natures frequency,
singing to the birds symphony.
Have you ever seen the intrinsic
workings of an introverts soul?
She was graphite, rough and raw. She’d erase rough lines of guidance, use the indents as a reminder of where not to walk, how not to cry, when not to break. She’ll sit up into the wee twilight Hours curving letters across nipples pert bud, gently caressing sensuality, as the sharpened pencil defines contours of need, black lines of repression smeared by charcoal nips and probing tips. Blurred definitions tainted revelations deceitful realisations Graphite creations… how she pondered now the way we draw our lines in pencil, temporary markings leaving a gentle trail of destruction across naked bodies beneath Lunar glows Wild oats, taken, made and sown Pick ups and throws… The allure of graphite, need erased, redrawn… Redrawn.
Drowning in kaleidoscopic hues of colour, Plunging through suffocating screams of realism Colour me in paint strokes of crimson blush and the licked flick of a dandelions wish kicked to the curb of impressionism May Cezanne paint the stills of my soul and Monet the echos of my wandering spirit So I may inject their portrayal in arsenic lining the canvas with mercury till the Mad Hatter stops for tea and the White Rabbit runs out of time… But for the storms that rage rains that cleanse, washing toxicity from the chaos so I may spend my days in monochrome exile.
I suffocate in the silent notes of a forgotten orchestra as it drowns me in its melodious song, the ancient whistle of Pan and his nymphs dancing to an unheard tune as I lose Sight of skies of blue. Dressed in topaz silk skimming bare knees, purple ribbons toes skipping on marble floors, I hear the devil call as he lands upon my shore… All air is sucked from my lungs Life drained from my veins Tears milked from the shadows of my heart as the walls tumble, As the ceilings crumble, As the chandelier shatters…
… fragmented diamonds, sparkle in the darkest hours, Light in life’s void, beauty in It’s shadows…
I could drown in the monochrome whispers of fantasy, lost, suffocating in my reality…
… to know my worth exceeds the grave and cradle, that each breath holds meaning and each second depth, yet, When I ponder of my existence I feel more alone than ever.
I do not wait for the apocolypse; neither enlightenment nor end days for both it seems to me pander to the reaper… … And I find no sense in surviving the darkness in wait for God’s mighty hand of justice, for what point lays in waking, breathing or ultimately kindness.
… I do not believe my woes to be the karmic debt of my Father or his before, have you ever met these men? To spend a moment in their presence is to know the strength of my conviction.
I tear holes in the ideology that we are born to die, that greatness is achieved on death, I ponder how many false martyrs are formed this way.
The same sun that will warm my soul will also burn my skin, and the same snow that ignites my spirit will freeze my heart, yet still I can be found dancing beneath them and when eventually I die, I will tell great stories of the way Gaia touched my soul, the way stars ignited my heart, the way darkness gave me light and light gave me darkness.
… And when I am before my Diety, when I am asked, am I happy to be home, I will say yes..
“But to have lived, is the greatest adventure of my existence.”