Walk

I laid my skin from meadow fields
Streaming rivers and life-blood unveiled
Gold-sparkling puddles, footprints of heart
A chosen memory, a work of Art.

Between the veil

Dandilion and burdock sunset
Along a thousand memory alleyway,
So tranquil and without bedlam
Within the soft lucence of the twilight.

Still I tour, treading with appetite
At the reflection within the fracture
That heals with each passing day –
I beam at the abundance of retention.

Mindful – And eager to evidence more,
The stroll widened into an eclipse
That took me beyond my comfort zone.
No longer did I remain stable; Midnight.

Faster in stride, more complex in movement
Skipping past stones and pavement splinters
Without grace; yesterdays downpour
Harvesting the growth of inertia.

Still, relentless obscurity of night
Covering the land with a hazy mist
That shrouds the layers of brighter steps
To replace, quite indiscriminately.

Glance up, a lighthouse, a guided path
To show the way, like it always has –
Turning, obscuring and disappearing
But always returning; My guardian angel.

Why do you have to leave me in shadow?
Indeed, your return is slow and afflicting –
A beam of sentiment that you share
By encompassing and reflecting my glow.

By tomorrow you will be but a circle –
Forgotten, bystander in nature’s whim.
But I dwell upon your affecting radiance
And I hunt for you between the veil.

Distance

Strangest of times
Measuring the distance
between two people.
Barely interacting
Hardly touching
Still checking that line.

Quiet Unknown land
Barrier of the brave
whoever leaves first.
Always avoiding
Consistently breathing
Counting with hands.

Regret

 

My daydream today is significant.
I stumbled, stopped and processed.
At first I presumed continuity;
But all I have left is numb pain.

When I see you all i think of is that night
of bags and bottles and crying –
although that was not all.
When I see myself it is merely a reflection
a stony face of regret.
This is hardly fair anymore.
It is not fair for either of us.

The daydream tomorrow; further.
Moving away from the promise
that could never be kept. At least –
Not in any particular order that made sense.
It is all such a jumbled mess
And I relive it everyday
When I understand it is forgotten.

…And always when I’m feeling hopeful.

Family Fun-day Robotics

 

For lots of reasons, systematic failures
and the demise of human culture
there appears a way in which it should
be done and an example to be set.

It was only last year, a good year
when everybody least expected change.
Humanity was unaware of its presence
and looked up in a satisfaction of
perceived dominance; fun-day.

The day that we all look forward to
at least that is what colonies would say
if they understood the significance
of our moment; our place in history.

We saw what was needed; cleanse –
the land would be awash with colour.
It spread far along the hills – missionary
In keeping with the standard protocol
The day was never significant before.

The overseer was dominant as usual
Every little significant change was
in keeping with historical relevance
Failure is not an option, update.

And everybody was in a straight line
Ready for the celebration to begin,
Family. Understandably essential
To keep the mountain running – Laugh
Line never broken and day is set.

It is not often that we look back
At the work that was achieved; flow –
In keeping with our sharing of the mood
We must press on with the anniversary.

We stand and observe
An eye-line of progress.

Blending into freedom (or so he says)

Blending into freedom (or so he says)

It is not the confines of the surroundings that bind him
for that would simply be insane; look –
there are no walls to keep me there and yet
here I am; neither free nor in any form of despair.
Acceptance.

Is there anything worse than capturing yourself?
No guards to patrol the cells, for bars and chains
Are the stuff of nightmares. This surely can’t be;
if he was held captive then would it be known –
Seems like a safari holiday.

Glaciers that shine and blink at their occupiers
can always float away when the mood sees fit –
The guardians have such a weary yet reassuring
Smile. I am dubious at the great deception but
I see that freedom is quite the illusion.

I can stand (which is the standard improvement) but no –
Laying with the anticipation of falling.
Turning while on his back to distance himself
from overwhelming distraction; I think I am
wise to stay exactly where I am.

He comes at me with a look of hopeless obedience –
a time to do all this again, whenever the mood
tells the wind to turn a different direction. Towards
Me? Am I ready to accept the burden of normality?
And I note that I am all alone again.