A living ball of white plastic twine
its bulb of body conscious
slim head pointed down towards the floor
chaos of legs whirling
knees bend inwards and go slack
like a flower opening and closing
a shimmering life
the size of my kneecap

hanging from a thread of silk
spider as a puppet
marionette legs
flailing as they play empty notes in space
haggling without gravity

mused into waking they paw at the air
smoothing the surface
of imagination

making and unmaking
an invisible tapestry

all these careless maids
whatever their purpose might be
whatever heartbreak is
the encroaching ends of their creations
meticulous in movement only
when the sewing
commences

In the morning
all the magic has worn off
the spider is a tiny brownish
common cellar spider
a miniature Daddy Longlegs
just the hull of what
was massive
and sentient
in the night

perhaps a mirage is a dangling carrot
to keep us ever-seeking

perhaps our bodies are the freedom clothes
for our souls

and perhaps our sanity,
isn’t

sane at all
but a fata morgana

science has proven
the moon to be a

bell ---
hollow and resonant

for hours ---
a seismic anomaly

which sounds
when hit

perhaps science
is the fata morgana

and we are sane
after all


c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater

here is a cup of fog
mix it well
with melancholy
spoon in a bit
of saccharine ---
indigestible sentiment ---
and blend it all
together

take this tablespoon of
creative fire
douse it with
unrelenting tears
repress it into a ball
then let it stand,
covered,
that the yeast of
sorrow may bloom

when doubled,
punch it down to
bloom again

punch
bloom
punch
bloom

work the dough of Life
to death
form it into a blob
put it into the cold fire of the ego’s
oven
leave it there to burn away
to nothing edible

serve it in hard chunks
on delicate china
and --- wait
trust that the teaspoon of
Love added at the last minute
will be enough


c. 2017 Roberta Compton Rainwater

We should learn
to break time
down to tiny fragments
the likely outcome
is --we would understand
the moment as it presents--
in greater clarity

we capitalise
on reducing its size
its power over us
diminishes

we would then
not count ourselves
to be weak
before a giant
as it has somehow
assumed the likeliness
of a little lamb.

Life has no reason to rebuke me
as I have never asked for its favours.

Even in my darkest hours,  I had never reproached it
as though it was the cause of my suffering.

I am no stronger than any other person--
it was in accepting my vulnerable humanity
that I had been able to rise above my sorrows.

I have to move on as there's no escape route open to me.

Weighed down by the chains of his past
His future beckoning to him from the sea
He contemplated, but hesitated to jump in
Not knowing if he would sink or float

Have you ever dreamt of the ocean
And then being presented with a plate of fish
Have you ever dreamt of an old friend
And then welcomed them at your door
The very next day
Have you ever left a place of comfort
In search of better dreams
Only to find that you still remain there
Within your dream of a dream
And could only find comfort in
Returning to the same old place
In the sleep of real life

Have you ever dreamt of love that filled your Whole being with a sweet essence that lasts
The entire enchanted day
And wondered if it was
Mutual longings

I have mastered the skill to predict reaching messages from an old friend
By the reunions in my dreams
Since she always reconnect with me
The very next day
And
Always took hints from my dreams
On what to write
What to say
Or even what to do

I live in another sentient world
In my dreams
A world not like
Yet not unlike ours
A world beyond the mirror.
A world perhaps beyond
The reflective fabric of our own reality.

(Dream is a mirror that goes both ways, and like a mirror, when you know what to do with it, you can use it to your own advantage. And it works very well too.)

But not wandering lost
Not hopefully lost
But completely lost
Till I can find myself no longer.
Merely exists, merely acts.
No questions, no answers.
No thoughts, no fear, no love.

Is freedom the ability to choose not to have it?

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?



The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.



I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.



I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.



I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.



If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.