my rise to greatness is slow but not debated
a particularly prophetic day
painted a wall then made my way across the country like a man with no name
machined to the city
a carriage in december
the cold outside not enough to quell these embers
four walls and more, man nextto me absorbed in reading a book about one of many wars
or a coule sat beside each other, both some scummy sufferes
who shot their looks across
but cross legged on the seat ignored and hushed up
quieted the mind listened weird growls and guitars that seemed out of time
Sat down on the floor
amongst the grids of complications tht make up the shed im in
iron, wine and skin
tired mind and slim
near christmas, sat alone like an eclipse
that profound sense of family aint for me
rather a paintful type of surgery
buy em all a muffin and hope they dont speak ill of you
paste over all their habits with a shiny mound of something new
forget the past for a day
forget you never speak
I think I found my baseline frequency
the hum that hymns at the core of me
the choir that chords these parts of me
that melody thats task was to be trapped and tune my flesh accordingly
its a hidden one
a tao type titan
one who move the wind but is nought to see
I know how it went but couldnt tell you what its face was like in imagery
because years ago I buried a body and built a new one from its bones
and years ago I swore id never know again a mind that cold
and thought I might disguise and hide behind a name thats not my own
now I find a power pillared like rifle striking lightning fighting rides and striding through
im on the edge of unlockingit again
and I cant pretend like that sight is something I cant comprehend
I know myself, warts n all
and though I may flatter, fall and fail in equal measured opportunity
I buried death
and survived what came next
but it still doesnt replace their steps
so you can keep your plasticized purpose
i’ll be trying to piece a new part of a universe
a particuarly prophetic day
caught in a haze
I slept on a mattress alone in the front room
the flickering tv kept me awake in its muted quiet
he did not recognise that it was christmas
asleep in his cared for accomodation
I the proverbial and patient son
did muse over what it meant to lose almost everyone at once.
Christmas aint easy for some, an effort that rewards are none.
Counting ghosts and missed existences upon your fingers like you tally crumbs
how your family drifts hold it tight and watch it like that melting snow slip.
We sit and we drink and we think
we sit and we think and we see that the brink be away from us for now so we begin
let it sink in and process what progress can be poised for the new years begin
