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ChronicSage May 2020
Feeling about for sweet oblivion
where memories lie impotent
where breath strings into nothingness
unencumbered by motion

This stuffing of blood and cells
in parentheses of time, form, deeds
each after the other, in a punctuated sequence
becoming moot, coming undone

All humans, all doors,
swinging in apprehension, in anticipation
on the inside, on the outside
of what, I do not know

but losing sense of the hinge sometimes
and becoming exposed to the elements.
ChronicSage May 2020
Stormy...insatiable
drenched...more
don’t stop…overflow
surge...splash
pleasure...more...
ChronicSage May 2020
Diffuse the phantoms
Give away the reigns
Take over left-brain
Talk sense to me
Raise the barricades
Hold me to gun-point
I do not want to think about you.
ChronicSage May 2020
Suffocating in a crowded vacuum
Quality of conversation none
All the right words in fancy fonts
Echoing with hollows of no substance

I would come to my own rescue
And break these shackles of din
If I could only find some oxygen
In the atmosphere they are wasting
ChronicSage May 2020
Every stitch is frail
in the weave of my brain
but the sweet words
of our careful exchange
remain warm and spongy
making pocks
in the candy of my memory of you
sugary bubbling pools of joy
from which I heal and rejuvenate
to forget another inconsequential day
ChronicSage May 2020
Afraid to stagnate
Be written off predictably
Mellow down and sediment
Achieve a boring froth-less configuration
Dull and centrifuged

Give me the possibility to shake things up
Throw the wind to caution
Break the bonds sitting comfortably smug
And allow for frisky new molecules
To bounce in the slop that is joie de vivre!
ChronicSage May 2020
I’m spinning
bouncing off these boundaries around me
they are all around me
they won’t let me be
let me free

Going numb against conformity
making me adhere
shaping me up
holding me back
arresting me
desisting me
shrinking me down
restraining me
choking my expression
my energy, my verve for life
sapping my need
to feel, to flow, to fly

I’m thrown against these walls,
platitudes of rectitude
I beat myself black and blue
I recede, cave-in
emerge and try again
I’m tired, I’m beat
but I’m not giving up today
No!
Tunneling, as in the concept in Physics.
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