poetomachia

There are so many words
I could spend many days
Many pages always forever
Writing, attempting to script my thoughts

Probing the depths of my feelings
Are they possible to be captured
Or just various stabs,
phrases, scenes that allude
Sort of an aging memory

begun as a comment on forty minutes of freedom, it became a work in and of itself:

chained glory.
fenced field.
ebullient death.
fast yield.

Breaking my back on time
Feeling it twisting my spine
I’m broken, I’m not well
Dragging my body to hell

If we must contend
I will defeat you
For my capacity for disappointment
Is immense

Going to pack it up, ain’t no way
I can be here, I can’t stay
The sun is gone, the sky is gray
Everything is rusted and in decay

Oh girl, when you talk that way
you’re breakin’ my heart
breaking my mind
Oh child, when you walk that way
you’re breakin’ my body
crushing my time
And when you shake that way
I am broke down
making me unkind
O and when you fake that way
putting the break to me
busting my grind

We come before you
with words insufficient
We bring before you
meager gifts unworthy
We fall before you
a will broken by the world
We show before you
a crumbling temple

We come before you
with our sacrifice
We bring before you
all of our time
We fall before you
putting our broken past behind
We show before you
our empty hands

We come before you
with the only gift we have
We bring before you
our whole lives
We fall before you
with a throne for the taking
We show before you
praise in reflection

Stick my head in a shadow box
Play with my fingers
Until the story walks
And the feeling lingers

The naked sky screams down at me
And I shout a whisper back
Alone she was a broken only
My shine refracts reflected act

The streets aren’t locked at night
She says she doesn’t need her mind
The fugitive soul is not contrite
And I am feeling just fine

I hang my hopes upon a kite string
And my line reaches toward the sky
They wiggle like birds taking wing
Even though they will not fly

Broken by sorrow
Crushed by fear
Come tomorrow
I’m out of here

heart is broken, crown busted, too
children are dead, cattle laid low

quietly waiting for something to wake us from our slumber
a shout or explosion, the as yet sight unseen
image of unknown, echo or reflection unheard
sight and sound, full color and spectrum, a complete dream