Either/Or

These trees swaying
                    in the wind; whispered
strange communication between
the unseen,
            green
above & soil beneath; a gift given
from one to the other, not
simply objects but
                their shadows;

the echo
        of absence within presence.

The weight
        of silence
behind words that define us, thoughts
now flowing forward surround us
like pollen, like fallen
seeds:

a vast symmetry of blossoming energy.

We speak of the life we had, of
                                the one we now have &
those we still want all
suspended at once.

One choice must destroy the others
& yet
in this moment
the scent
of each other
            as it lingers
upon us
        is all
              that matters,

& the rest
cannot be expressed…
 

Anamnesis

So many rooms in so many houses;
spaces within which the walls have waited,
        unseeing,
                uncaring,
as I played various roles
in minor dramas, some
of my own devising,
                some not,
        & most
being incomplete.

So many days wanting to stay away
from this mess, this reluctance;
                the daydream
of purposeful action
abandoning us with
                every movement
around the Sun.

The fragility of
                everything;
inevitable entropy
& we,
                the animals
that will not be themselves,
capable of knowing all this
wait
while words emerge to seek
a story worthy of acknowledging
                    that beneath
every surface
something waits
to be
            misunderstood.

Either serendipitous or fucked up:

The choice is yours.

The choice is mine,
           
            & I
                    can’t decide…

Past // Present // Future

Each anticipated day arrives &
elides into the past,
as we wait,
           again,
but for what?

How long will it take
for the pattern to change?

When will the cycle end?

With no past the future
becomes a desert &
                  the desert grows,
surrounding us
                  with the slow
creeping
of midnight mist…

with no future
the present becomes a test

you will fail unless
                    you refuse
to fight against
the meaninglessness
& dance instead

with the absurdity

All Gods Die a Quiet Death

All Gods die a quiet death.

Only silence survives when nothing is left.

In the struggle of existence,
even the winners have to lose.

The odds are always against us,
no matter which side of the line we choose.

Martyrs mistake dreams for pretence,
but nothing exists that makes any sense:

Just pretty pictures to paint over & protect.

Master/\Slave

The Slaves hate the Masters &
                themselves.

The Masters hate both & everything else.

A glacial surface is crawling across
our collective imagination,
while the world burns
                    waiting
to destroy civilisation.

When we stare into mirrors or
out of windows every day,
do we admire or look away?

Do we know that what we see is only
one more object
                consumed
& constituted
by an infinite sea of others?

Do we feel the horror of that
brief tremor
beyond the horizon of thought;

a something that is nothing
at all,
        &

when we chose to avert our gaze,
to pretend that everything will remain
        the same;

when we shatter the mirror & the shards
dig deep into our hands,

will we realise that

we have no one to blame but ourselves?