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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She tried. She really did.

Teetering on the edge
Of possibilities
They pulled me back.
Peremptorily. Sagely.
Masking the accusation
That leaked edgeways
From their words.

Words dripping
Saccharine sweet.

They called me
To Opportunities.
Them. Who called
Me. To talk.
It’s nothing, they said.
That edge you say you’re on?
It’s merely an illusion.
It’s only in your head.

See?
Just a nonsensical illusion
Fed by… maybe a sense of 

Self-pity?
This, with that
Smug, satisfied air
Of The One Who Knows It All.

We know, they said.
We know just how it is.

Do you?
I screamed.
Albeit silently.
I did not
Want to worry them.
Because, you see,
Self-preservation includes
Making oneself as
Invisible as possible.

You do not need
Their attention.
Their Incomprehensible,
Sometimes Insufferable
Sympathy.

Empathy is rarer
Than that pink, well cut diamond.
Should you find one.
I hope, I tell myself,
(as motivation)
You’ll recognise it
Keep it, even if you
Pay with all the
Pain you’ll feel..
That you share
When you share
If you do.
Would it help?
Maybe. Maybe.

That’s the voyage
You’ll never embark on
Maybe.
But just stand on
The Sands of Time
Look out at the
Billowing waves.

Wondering how long
Before you
Give in and
Drown.

Quite, quite drown.

Remembering, of course
To leave behind
The words. The instruction
For this epitaph.

She tried.
She really did. 

7 February, 2017


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Limbo

Suns burn with the
Irony of a knowledge
That blinds.
Light. So much light.
But never enough
To chase the shadows.
Yet, always too
Much to let
The Shadows be.

Times when I need
The Shadows
I’m blinded.

Else, it’s the eclipse
Where I exist.
(Cease.)

Hither and thither
Emotions scuttle
Like roaches fleeing light;
Or perish,
Moth to flame.

So, each night,
I flood my room
With light.

For only then
Can I be lost.

Or found.

21 December, 2016

Sigh.


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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 🙂