Breath of Hecate

newman-passage-london-w1-02

1.

Sandy white sidewinders
trickle down the frosty asphalt
unconscious, unaware that they
are crushed by mounting progress and steel-belted purpose
I watch them dance giddy and free
ashamed of not knowing if
they are coming or going
not knowing if it is them
or me
wanting more

2.

Pale caramel and icy
My world has transformed itself
by my grasp, my fortitude
A dim idea of direction
shadow faith
Flashbacks, piercing the center of my body
longing for what I knew,
uncertainty and doubt
My life is speaking a different language to me
and I am straining to understand
Change, Change, the soft, icy embrace of Change
lusted for or not,
She is a lonely, somber lover

3.

I reduced control
to the barest a thin slice of skin
between all and nothing
facing myriad directions,
I built it back up in consciousness and breathed
a long and smoldering 360 degree sigh
Eyes and mind open,
a heart beating again
It’s time to build, time to make within
the sphere of my hands
and mind a new world order,
pin prick in the center of me


shipA momentary blob of poetry in an otherwise quiet and patient Sunday evening. Forgive the intrusion. I’m blobbing some of H.D. Thoreau here, too, cause I’m feeling it.

“I did not wish to take a cabin passage, but rather to go before the mast and on the deck of the world, for there I could best see the moonlight amid the mountains. I do not wish to go below now.”

If Thoreau could have said “E-Ticket Ride,” he would have.

-TDD

 

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