A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)


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Hangover

The surfeit of
Spirit.
Uniquely branded.

You.

Aeons of drinking
From the cup of
Shared memories
Has not sweetened
Life.

For, your sudden
Withdrawal,
Sent me into
Paroxyms
An orgy, almost

Of pain.

And here I am
Penning a paean.

To that ache
I shall always live with.

Seeming to revel in it.

Maybe I do.
Maybe, that is
The only way.

For, any other way
Would mean

Acquiring new skills.

I’m too old a dog,
For that.

Unless, of course,
I find a new spirit
Just as unique…

And assuage
My soul’s thirst.

5 March, 2017
Online, and as surreal as it can get. No, no spirits, except them wordy ones are responsible for this 🙂 

 


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Stalemate

Yes, I dared.
To speak.
And more.
To act as well.
Upon them words.

Caught you unawares, I know.

Still, what matters
Is this.

Caught your eye.

Didn’t I just!

Your move, mate.

And see if I’m not
Prepared.

I’m game.

The game.

It quite devours. Does it not?

Done. Dusted. Or not.
And then we wonder
What the eff just happened!

11 February, 2017
Online, on traitorous thoughts of trivialities tending to tempt tantrums 😛
Go figure. 😛 

 


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Auto…correct

There is so much I
Want to say.

I do want to.

So I do.

But, damn.

Double dayymmn.

Wants ain’t important.
Needs are.
They know that-
Them words.
Them words that rule the roost
In here.

So I say, want.
But them needs slip out.
Those sneaky sneaky
Words, slipping between
The spaces of those wants.

Too late. I’ve said it.
In Black and White.
Red in the face.
That slips into
The grey areas of my
Non existence.

Slip of the tongue.
Of the Mind.
Needs. Wants.

There’s a canvas
Waiting to be drawn
Quartered and hung.

A visible tapestry
A mosaic.
Intricate. Exquisite.
Poignant.

Because it is
Painted in pain.

18 January, 2017


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Un(en)titled As Yet

Plucking formless shapes
From the angst within
Giving them names
Fond, obsessive-

You’re by far the favourite.

shard

I tell that particular
Jagged shard
With his name on it.

You shall forever be
Impaled in my heart.
Try as I might
I know I’ll never
Be safe, without you.

To let you go,
Would bleed me
Lifeless.

And with you-
Within-
That slow poison
Of your affectation
Would consume
Any life

I could own.

And yet, Am I?
Am I not?

I am lost.
Without you.

5 January, 2017

Online, because them words demand my attention 🙂


7 Comments

May the odds ever be in your favour

The catachresis of a statement
Made famous by the Girl
Who did beat the odds
However engineered it was
Designed to obliterate
But then, the odds
Were in her favour.

Over and over again.

As it probably could be
For me?

Should I choose
In the face of
Well-meaning, scaffolded
Relationships.

But will it?
Will I let it?
The odds are strange things.
Always surprising
Obliging even.

So much so, you believe
It could be.

And the soul then hungers.
In the games it plays, to get it.

And so it plays out.

Till you realize.

The odds. Odd.
Could they ever
Be in your favour?

And then you live

That paradox.

Yearning.

8 July, 2016