posted on September 28, 2008 at 8:31 pm

choices are illusory
our destinies are fixed to stars
all our lines dictated to us at birth
deep horrors inculcated over 50 lives
strange predilections that run deeper than the blood
luck has many faces…one is opportunity
and when your story seems to have run its course
time will provide the addenda
in the beginning there were feelings
feelings of joy
feelings of doubt
feelings of oh why isnt it me?
the start was lying crying in a room helpless
the end will be lying helpless in a room crying
and during…….?
what pleasures among them all will you remember…?
walking on moss in strange forests
the transparent domes of the vanir
your mothers gentle hand
the hot male rut
the hammer and the storm
the bite of life but not its kiss
the warmest evenings by the grey sea
the fire and camaraderie
yes and the warmest dreams of love
and washed out memories of some childhood
a little garden of verses
riding a donkey on the sand
hiding and shivering
brothers
sisters
companions
enemies
here on the page we can say anything
where we merge for a moment
when we should be outside doing something
outside where i ask
outside yourself
outside all this
outside in the cold
outside time
beyond the setting sun
and over all rainbows….
really used to believe in that pot of gold
gold and silver and genies from lamps
why not? i can still see it in my head
relinquishing my post
wandering off into the desert
where i have my visions
damn ask us!
christ
odin
old meph
keep breathing into it
options all open
awareness upshot
buckle in time
the collapse of the sequence of events
mischief
why?
who can say?
no one
no thing
fickle luck
limpid whim
voice from a shell that whispers the seas name
the sacred ash tree
the desire for cold clean water
divest yourself of all things
prepare yourself now….why wait
the familiar will one day be strange
and the light will be as darkness
and you will be unable to accept the charge
and you must rinse all ideas from your mind
when you come to the end of a perfect day
and summer sets on sundays skin
and night comes softly and unannounced
you feel the cool air go past
like you could go anywhere
although now you can
and new is so new
like you crash back through the beginning again
just like before but more after
as you were
when it all began
in such a long long time

47 Responses to “ghost in his own lifetime”

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