Wednesday, 5 October 2011

When the pain subsided; I saw death

Sickly, twisting tinges of the torso’s crispy hinges,
The pain, the constant pain, pain appears and sets to work,
Just a pleb for one great curse, each division working harder
On the bones, on the muscles, on the kidneys and the lungs,
Yielding yawns, growing groans, and mining moans, 
But the spawn of the faction never dawns on me, just lends me to the lessening
Less and less the love, the lively risings, heavy are my limbs,
The cramps and creaks are vultures laughing on a freshly fallen scarecrow,
I have done this; I have made the body bleed,
The breath reduce,
The mind induces only hope, such strong and silver hope, irrational!
But such a cloak to cushions daggers, such a cloak to keep the darkness warm,
And arm in arm we cape and grope the devil’s days, the hangman’s rope,
The blackest dogs of sweet mislay,
Super, we are hero, hope and I, hopeful heroes, getting by, learning to cope,
Who knows where the next bad hand will come from, stretching, taking,
Seizing, choking, who knows when that hand will lay upon my neck its tightest hold
And gently sway and rock me far away,
Far from sickly, twisted tinges of the torso’s crispy hinges,
Far from all dismay,
Who knows when I’ll hate the hand that takes my pain away,
And hope, still blowing in the absent-minded wind, she asks of me
To be a pessimist,
To be in the right mind and to be wrong of all the things that do me wrong,
To be wrong and to have life again, however long,
However long a life I’ve left, to use it to be wrong of all the things that tell me youngness is long gone and set in stone is death’s strong throng,
To be wrong too of the hand that longs to take me far away,
And the sickly, twisting tinges of the torso’s crispy hinges would be oiled and I would bow, down as low as I could bow, and kiss the ground and would not rise until my eyes had cried a night of cries, and with them washed I’d watch my water dry in new sunrise,
Under a sun that never shun before, a sun that didn’t spell ‘goodbye’ that wasn’t counting down when it came up, just rose in all its glory, just to say I am the sun and always will be, there is nothing man in me, and hope and I could say the same, that we’re the sun,
And when we’re up we’re up, we shine, and when we’re gone we’re gone.

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