stream of thought-23-03-2015

This pain needs morphine, I need to cauterise this cancer, cut it out clean to the root, these few mutated cells , this mass, I needs be rid of this darkling mind.  I feel like a purpose wrought device that had been placed and bent to a foreign goal and with every turn, every turn of the lathe, my soul rebels. This hungry ghost that lives inside me would better served outside, I wish people could see this taint I carry, like some blood borne sickness, but I suffer in such sublime smile decorated silence that no one will ever know.


I am madness and fire underneath velvet silence. My work becomes my morphine and through years of practise, I too can say the company lines and laugh with them all. No one sees this broken smile, but they feel this yawning empty, this starvation pain over unyielding acres of want, I see it in their eyes, the looks they fetch out for me. It is being supremely worthy that makes me unworthy. I can not tell if they know how this feels, if they too wait for dark to pet their ghosts. If their pain is sometimes so empty, they would exchange all the world to fill it.

Only I, I walk here in the were-life longing for a dream that has always danced on the horizon. I push my mind till it is silent but still in exhaustion it calls in vain to it's other when there is none. Who can know the fate, the slow poison of passion turned inwards than those that love has forgotten. I the unlovable. I would say we but I know of only me. Even here at my most weak I am but one.


I am strong, warrior valour and I take the pain from those I love. I stand on the edge of what must be and want can not be allowed to be and I hold the line. I am many things, and in each of them I am this one thing. I don't blame them for not seeing, I know I hide it all. If I walked the waking world, like this wraith, I could not survive so I bound my tender heart beneath my noise and bluster. But under the armour of distance and cynicism I am still this woman, on the brink of being forgotten, this sad eyed girl who weeps for the chance she never had.

I am not in the moments of platitudes, in the day-time world in the cold plans, in my ambition in my strangeness there lies but only half of me and in the dark there lies the rest. The rest and she longs for a soft place to fall without having to check for knives, a voice to reassure and for once someone who will be in charge and allow her to fall to pieces and be gathered up again glued together by his faith and loyalty.

I indulge in my favourite fantasy often, I write and rewrite the script with different players. I wrap it in shimmers of possibility, I write it in words like sweet sugar candy but it is small sustenance. I know who I am, what will be and each day I long to awaken free. no more longing. No more dream. Just still peace.

Becoming

Sometimes
I watch all the not others
Their guileless rejection
everything I have ever dreamed
taken for granted
left
to dry
to husks
forgotten on the shores of their lives

They who have gotten
too jaded
too moneyed
too bored
hoard things I would happily exchange
their eyes are dead


Their grasping fists
their lust
their avarice
and shaded shameful vice
see my strong girl stride
chase like unicorns
but never see that
only innocence binds me

sometimes I hate them
those shysters
of domesticity
other times
I see how they once were
I see the crumpled dream
Cut my fingers on their shattered edges
only to see inside
dark
dead

Discipline

Every kind of philosophy invites one to free themselves from desire, from want
To be free in a place of non-want
what is not addressed is need
A woman may master her wants
Master her mind
But the demons of need
still rise
After exorcism
after holy water
deep six desire is death
You speak to your mistakes
to your truths
and you reduce the madness
that giddy run after your impulse
slows to a march towards what you want
you tell yourself, there are priorities
Life becomes the arid of career and professional
and people use your title
But there inside you
like a vein of mineral deep inside the mountain
that wild child dances still
like this deep twist of  character
Your need is the death knell
All it takes is this small possibility
and like erosion
the cracks will reopen
Hoping this time
your light will shine in the dark places
My supine need
dives deeper than my deepest thoughts
like some fabled beast
you come to me
and all the sense I made of my shards dissolves
I am gloriously broken again
and I want you to see
You are the spectre that stalks here inside
you take this big mind
your touch reduces it to so much animal sensation
The careful planning
the discipline
all disappear in an instant
and this wild hearted girl child
wants your beast to come out and play

Epicery

Caramel snaps between my teeth
dissolves on my tongue like gossamer
This skin?
That you are wrapped in
Will it melt into sweetness
deep addictive golden
If I skimmed it with my fingers
Would it feel hot?
Would it come apart on my fingertips
like cotton candy on a hot summers day.
This deep skin
would it grow sticky with condensation
if I held it close to my skin?
Messy and strangely satisfying
Like the lush of a handmade candy
that curve of your mouth is obscene in its shapely invitation
I want to leave
My red lipstick right there
there
in the fulcrum
of that bowed upper lip
My mark there
and
maybe
even here
I never can decide which chocolate to eat first
and this unwrapping
would confound me
In the curve of the neck
running with rivulets of sweet
I ache to taste
Lick it up in long sure strokes
I wonder if the salt caramel skin
lives beneath those careful shirts
Sugar burnt fingertips sting
but my private tastes
extend far beyond the mundane
I am a gastronome
And this degustation
is laced with sharp sensations
a vein of honeyed golden poison
so now to my mercy
inside these box days
the chocolaterie in my mind
turns to caramel
My thoughts turn to feasts
and I ache to unwrap