Tuesday, September 23, 2014

POEM: "Note To The Dead-in-Spirit"

Note To The Dead-in-Spirit

Restless, not knowing, we turn away
Convinced that some things aren't real

Anguished and angry, wailing, taking lies
To bed with us, we wake to tell no one

Keep no blanket, save nothing from burning
Brook no curiosity about who or what set the fire
Because we're iced. We can't stop this shivering
Every night remembering how it was to sleep

There's no profit in suffering our childhoods
We suffer our neighbours, our lives, our selves
The spirit's dead and the dream is moribund
These times can't be sustained. We mustn’t hope

When reversed, humbled, change emerges
We crawl about the floor, a sunny day yawns
Rubs its eyes with the eyes of some other
Retains another second’s warmth of wonder.


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