Monthly Archives: November 2016

Stasis

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With bare feet I slip across the frozen days,
The stasis of my life; day after day
I trip and go from high to low
In an instant, and in an instant
Time stretches on with the grace of
Infinity sweeping out from my vision
And consuming the dark world entire.

Day after day I poison myself;
My poison is an antidote to the banality of life,
That truest of horrors, that which kills
Unseen and unknown, but never unfelt;
I want to feel joy while I live,
And in ecstasis to plunge towards death,
Submitting to the vanity of time.

I wake up anew, and by the day’s end
Have stumbled and fallen into the same traps;
My mind ensnares itself, coils around and around
And lashes out at me like a snake that,
Unknowingly trodden over, bites without
Knowledge, following only instinct;
My instincts are but the wishes of Satan.

I get so worked up over my programming;
I rattle and quake, and find no solace
That I was born this way;
There are some who are born and in the course of life
They find that the world is for the meek to inherit,
But they are strong, and so they must be broken,
Until, crippled, they submit to callous death.

And again, as it was, and again it shall be;
There is no escape from the simulation;
What was, is; what shall be, is;
And where we are now is the ceaseless echoing
Of the original; here we can but dream until
The death of energy: an eternity in stasis;
There is no escape…

The Precipice of Ecstasy

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A nebulous cloud, breaking new ground
In the shattered spectrum of the jungle,
The cacophonous blues and alluring greens,
Weaving their wild, passionate melodies
Across the speckled pupils
Who begin to feel the strength of the sea,
Until, breaking beneath the waves,
My icy eyes begin to melt.

And sinking down, irresistibly cleansed,
The sapphire breaths and ruby roars
Come bursting cross the rolling hills,
The crescent peaks and verdant valleys,
The snow-capped mountains, ready to
Blow with the fount of life,
Their gentle peaks but waiting
For some warm breath to melt their snow.

The incessant hum of the forest in bloom:
Cawing mewling screeching howling;
Then breaking before the lightning’s hymn,
The rolling thunder low and deep
Comes crashing down at the crest of noon,
And the forest in awe, ashamed to look
At the roiling boiling swelling air
Where electricity crackles with the birth of life.

The snow-capped colossus, its majesty
Ever emanating, as aloof as a king yet
Undaunted by the foolish wind dancing around,
Crafting melodies in the living air,
Echoing through the hollows and crevices,
Before rising to pierce past the bronze horizon,
Hovering, like a dam about to burst,
Hanging on at the precipice of ecstasy.

Words are ever thrown off that mighty cliff,
Or perhaps just sounds, the vocalization
Of the essence of man as it writhes,
Striving upwards to penetrate the heavenly auroras –
The endless supernovae – and the blinding light
At the end of black holes where traveling,
I was ever torn and twisted until I was
At last spat back out into your arms.