Not a poem. I hurt; like a Frankenstein monster. Iron fist. Unrelenting.
Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within
There’s a voice deep inside getting stronger every day. I cannot deny the message these urgent words proclaim. Why bother?
Is there any way I might touch yo… that doesn’t skim right off the su… of your exquisitely contrived vene… Is there a plea which I might utt… that would stir you from within?
Sometimes I worry what you’ll thi… about these words I spew upon this… Not often. Not for very long. What of the form and structure?
The storm is brewing. I smell it in the air. I am panicking. I can barely breathe. I fear this tempest
Are you the one I have no words f… Are you the one who seeks the space between these lines? I used to think I’d know you inst… Now I don’t know anything at all.
Your unexpected words of kindness fell upon this desert dweller’s arid heart
The old man, who thinks he’s dying, approached me with these words. I am sorry
I am here now. I have removed my outer garments, placed my trust within your circle… I have come because you promised. You told me you would be here
What lingers within me is ancient… prepared for the worst of all poss… No matter how deeply I rest while… it’s forever awake, coiled and rea… It seems to be from before there w…
These words, gently laid upon this page, amount to my sincere prayer they reach within you, and touch your secret self,
Cast adrift in an unknown sea. By my pride. Alone Missing you,
Who of you will follow where I’m bound to go? None that I can see. None that I can name. No-one that I know.
Within this pilgrim’s soul exists a hungry beggar waif, who can never afford a moment of indifference or distraction. Alert to every aching nuance
