It began it began it began
the spin of things misunderstood
the underpinnings of the disturbed
mood mistaking music
as the magic food
to take us there
to take us there where
the river runs and hides
its floods beyond our eyes
where the beginning grin
wakes our minds to the
saltwater seas we left behind
Does the we make me less of a me?
My memory takes my hand
and leads me to the other land
where seasons sing
and singers see
all the reasons we learn to flee
from the proud forlorn dance
of the echo of the trance
where-in I lie awake
waiting to take the terror away
away from the thoughts that pester me
deepening into desperate dream
and I cannot fly
I cannot fly
my wonders amaze my wandering eyes
and I am taught to seize the skies
and gather them in
gather them up into a system
a method to cope
amazing the size and the sight and
the scope of the demon in dream
the demon in me
the little black devil spilling the seed
bruising the smooth white satin
sheen of a world uncovered
but never seen
and all this all this all this
still made me free
I tell you now in poetry
the song that was sung to me
though I asked not for the
bludgeoning the bruising
the bastardly using
of a silver shining thing to cut
me raw to carve me out
to risk the shiver and shame
the shout and all about me
the monotony whispers
'do you see, can you see, will you see'
but the beckoning just mesmerized me
and I collapsed
futile attempt to read the maps
that covered me
beautiful white flakes snowdrops
and dreamcakes and outside
I hear I hear the chorus repeat
just sleep just sleep just sleep
CONTINUE POEM