12 June, 2013

Compass Points

It seems to come from nowhere,
Though it's myself
Slowly breaking down.
This gaping cavity,
My passion removed-
And my commander along.
Where is steadiness
When I now need her?
What friends have I?
True? Untrusted?
What's the motive,
The status?
I move in seconds
From normal to tears
And I know it's caused
By my lack of control.
I have to be her,
Each,
All-
Perhaps not in equal measure
But each serves her
Own special purpose.
My compass points and spins,
Guides me, or tries,
And what choice have I
But to trust it?

11 June, 2013

Must Dream

Everything is broken,
Myself most of all.
I'm having me a moment
I want to peel off
All of my skin.
So hungry- Can't eat;
So tired- Can't sleep.
Can't drink. Must dream.
My insides so fickle,
Trying to confuse me,
Trying to convince me.
But again- what do I want?
Peace!
I don't wanna go to work
I just want to crawl in bed
I don't want to talk-
I just want someone here.
Don't want to itch
Or scratch
Or burn
Don't want to walk
Or cry
Or run!

Venture

I make a slow circle
Around this, my little world
And see the chaos
I have caused here.
I look back on yesterday,
And the day before,
And I question my
Every action.
Who commands and decides?
Who directs and orders?
Where, to whom, are my loyalties?
I Kendahl this little fire,
And ask myself as I've been asked-
What do I want?
Am I searching for
That kind of adventure?
Kimi whispers "No!"
But on another level,
I can't help but wonder...
Not my "if's" again!
I remember her for
Who she is not-
And is that wrong?
Or good?
Or just, like me, insane?
I have not forgotten,
How could I?
That sweet smile
And hair so soft.
I miss my songs.
I miss my pages,
With all the advice
I will ever need;
For when in doubt,
For which way to go.
The same same things,
The familiar words.
Spout from the speakers-
Variations on themes.
Am I trapped along my circle?
It comes back to the same.
As do I?- As do I.
Balance her out, I suppose,
But with whom?
I couldn't say.
How can I hold back?
Must it be all or none?
Four on one?

Film

Lids are lowered
And the film begins,
A life of its own
Though originally within.
I breathe into it,
Or it into I-
Whichever truth,
Either sky.
They dance there,
As the music rings;
Free from face,
Free to sing.