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May 2015 · 461
I come from
ScarletLetters May 2015
I come from
A land of oak trees,
Kicking at concrete mushrooms,
Watering cans, passion flowers,
Climbing up the castle walls.

I come from
Water where,
There once was an ugly duckling,
Now a rubber duck,
Swimming on the ripples of a king sized duvet,
Sailing on sofa boats,
Protecting a pillow fortress.

I come from
A floor of molten lava,
Flying up up upwards
Umbrella grabbed tightly,
To the twinkle twinkle glow-in-the-dark stars,
Practically perfect in every way,
Thinning my way to heaven.

I come from
The constant echo of fire trucks,
We duel with sticks of light,
Until the dictator sends us to bed.

I come from
A world where
Trains with smiley faces
Conduct our means of transport,
Powered independently.

I come from
A body of television screens,
Antennae on our heads.
I come from
Consumers
Of the bite
Of the Apple.
Apr 2015 · 467
Pleasure Pathways
ScarletLetters Apr 2015
Part I: My Temple

The house has been burgled,
The furniture rearranged,
The bookcase is burning,
The contents in flames.

The ground is not stable,
The stairs are not steady,
It’s time to go they said,
But I am not ready.

It is safe inside,
Warm and detached,
The fire is raging,
But I can’t move I’m attached.

They took what was mine,
They stole who I was,
We tried to find reasons,
But just because…

The weight of my world
Rises up with the smoke,
The rooms hold the lies,
That secrets provoke.

It’s fading away,
Consumed by the flame,
It’s lost itself
But who can I blame?

The house is eaten,
The fire licks it clean,
I tell myself I will wake up,
That this is just a bad dream.

I didn’t think they’d notice,
My house burning down,
But little did I know,
It was the talk of the town.

I stand at the door,
All that’s left is the frame,
The inside is wreckage,
The exterior is the same.

Its heart is slowing down,
Brittle bones are breaking
Skeletal and fractured
It falls apart, shaking.

Part II: The Wilderness

Out here
On the road,
I’m completely
Lost
Signs telling me where to go,
But I trust myself most
The alarm rings of disillusionment and denial
That wakes up my neighbours,
Yet I don’t notice.

I turn down pleasure pathways,
Each one connected to another,
They stimulate desire.
The road backwards is blocked,
I concentrate on what's ahead
My only way is forwards,
So I can begin to run.

Part III: Rebirth

My house is being rebuilt and ever so slowly the bricks are stacked,
The windows are replaced and the cement is set.

But some damage is permanent.
There’s cracks,
And there’s scars.
Electricity rewired
Forcing life where there is none,
Repairing the circuit,
Pumping blood through the veins,
So I can live in the house again
Temporarily affecting the artificial happiness.

The flower grow and makeup the trees
I paint on the outside a sunshine yellow,
I open the curtains to enjoy the view
I restack the shelves with new books
With fresh bindings and different stories.

Yet it can’t help but remind me of the past,
All that has been and has gone,
At last it is almost done.

Part IV: Divine Intervention

A year has circled,
Memories in every alley and lane,
I’m back to the days when it all began,
My past normal is my present insane.

I ran further than I realised,
I wanted to leave my town,
I buried myself in sadness
Further and further down.

Many don’t want to visit,
They’re afraid of all that has been,
Afraid that my house is unstable,
They can’t see what I’ve seen.

But I came back to look clearly,
To live out my days in my home,
My family visit me,
I am back from being alone.

It all feels more homely,
The garden colourfully thrives,
I have redecorated it completely,
Only goodness survives.

My temple could be inherited,
Maybe by a child or two,
But I won’t let them fall,
I know exactly what to do.

So the decay of the house will always be with me,
Despite ashes swept away,
But now that I am back again,
I am here always to stay.

— The End —