Thirty-Seven Personal Perihelion

 
I have lost my footing upon the bombardment from a delicate firmament, shaking my visions to the abstract core
Nauseating, precepts of spinning disc like thoughts, encroaching their conquest of yore

The headaches of scepticism come and go, yet the pulse to do, it steadies my aim

True aim

Inside my blasting eyes echo globules of adulating remissive and prerequisite, puddling comprehension

Underneath all of that in the mud and sludge, solid pillars of light bear all

Incalculable, unconquerable strength

Upon a hoary plinth placation of whims begins to fill to a crescendo of ignorant ichor

The ignorant insouciance of the blood!

Ignorance of bliss!

Still trudging onwards is where the hollowing screams jangle to my places, my tracts of bones now straining under repetitive toil of entropic and dwindling foundations

Built from my mind, built with such time

Gasp!

And here where the nonsensical screaming is loudest, where maddening shrieks of existence clamour and clatter against one another in their pandemonium soaked ferment, that is where under oath I refract its precipitous happenstance again and again and again

Have you felt the soft brush of its wings upon your very neck?

A neck that is soon to be parted from its abundance

Pray tell, I see the calamity ahead…
Separate relish required and when it arrives all thought shall be perished

Perish such thoughts!

Partially toothless puzzle between the hairs of an open wound, glowing with fronds of colour, clambering inside a shaky frame

A SHAKY FRAME FOR ME

Relevant perfection

A wheezy whistle summons the locomotion of a clambering old foolish frame, shuddering at junctions, repeating timetable, genuflecting to the ancient, immutable orders of old

And still it goes!

Becoming pity of a perilous kind, flittering between inference the artful balance of yesterday’s sunburnt optimism as it becomes the blinkers of today’s bibulous moratorium of a regretful and agonising pace

Cry havoc upon the fair winds of fortuitous comprehension!

Tumultuous drudgery, dread the mud, stone and shit of schlep existence, no existence just a blink of the past

Ambiguities now abound, I must relish their true scales of worth

To be told what to do by myself, to make it all wealth

To live and then die

The question is why?

Everything after ending is all

Damnation to me and the timepiece indeed