“Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But, since no one was listening, everything must be said again.” – Andre Gide
The very essence of my soul betrayed
No knowledge may heal the would I made
In this fog, there is nowhere to be or go
I just can’t forgive myself I’m afraid
Misery and self-loathing bedevil my days
A madness of the impossible Derrida says
The radical act of self-forgiveness so
Absolve yourself, you must find the ways
Inspired (and butchered) by a reply to a letter to Nick Cave at The Red Hand Files newsletter
Part one has just started
Your customer now out-smarted
Part one was great
But….to be continued at a later date?
Now you’re in a state
So you wait for part two
And what do you do?
Leave another cliffhanger
To generate more anger
And money
That’s funny
Get your special binder
Free for a fiver
Just a reminder
They were so meaningful, the words I read
As I fell to sleep, they remained in my head
They resonated more than any words said
But something happened as I was sleeping in my bed
This morning the memory struggles to recall
My mind is empty, without any words at all
Not even the gist, a notion or a vague idea
One day they’ll pop up again and the memory will be clear
The air in this room is still
No motes of dust floating in sunlight
Each second the grandfather clock creaks
Each hour a church bells delight
Braced against cold, a fire emerges
Blankets removed at the next bell
The crackle and roar has settled now
As the sun struggles up over the hill
The window frost starts running
New roads made on the warming glass
Soon all the bears will awaken
And another day shall quietly pass
The ghosts of this room may gather
But will one day be all forgot
The fire replaced, the window glazed
And the striking of bells will not
It’s a pre-existing medical condition
The living, breathing, eating, shitting me
A lifetime, pre-post-existence
Gladly spent pondering what it is to be
The hungry tiger had dead babies on his conscience
The more he wondered, the hungrier he got
Why was it so, that he should be born this way?
Which crazy god made this the hungry tigers lot?
I said to my friend “It’s a funny old world”
He stopped crying and said “Yeah”
You know if we’re born without a smile
I wonder how we would fare?
The steeples point to heaven
Yet my feet are here on earth
The cities yield to the dirt
Whilst the woods exercise their mirth
Solace amongst the battlements
Whilst treading familiar paths
Breath deep the cool pine air
The sun sets upon our gentle hearts
United in our spiritual mores
This ghostly presence felt
Brings gladness to my heart
For these present tidings dealt
The boy watched the soldier
Said “Dad, that’s what I want to be”
The soldier shot his dad
And hate was all the boy could see
The boy grew to be a man
And a soldier he became
And he knew his enemy
And killed without any shame
*It’s hard to accept
A door without a handle*
To hold in your fist
An eternal burning candle
When doing wrong
Turns out to be doing right
To purposefully ignore
What is clearly within sight
The door is shut
And your skin is burning
Oxymoronic times
Opens eyes to learning
*quote from Stanislaw Lem
1994ever 