A Miscellaneous Poom That Fits Not A Category
Wonder when the starlings are
coming back. Amazing little birdies, ain't they?
I canno find a word (the word), to nudge me
off this silly metaphoric precipice to free
"me", freeflight wit them metaphoric angels.
The beauties are long gone, and love became
Marginalized, minimalised, maybe due to invasive
techniques from anOtherworld
where none are allowed "from bad to worse"
(in a topical, typical context),
Now comfort erodes much faster than rot.
And rot decomposes for The Cycle of things.
And The Cycle of things is merely one of those metaphors
made for someone less imbecilic than my-self,
and says dark is not evil, as light is not truth
(necessarily), always seeming
to try to make some Thing out of that which is not.
Now, where once I could touch you and hold your living hand,
there is no consoling sound in either daylight or dark.
Personally, "I can't stand it".... in whatever that
may mean, in any framework of "possible".
I come to the thought of You, with no'thing in hand, nothing
at all graspable.........and certainly NoThing embraceable
(by any means) , and with no "going back"