Layers of man
Bricks upon stones
Swirling sand
And ancient bones

Broken in piles
Have we lied for ages
While the sun grows dim
And the world rages

We can see into the past
Yet never too far
For what was is darkness
Before our star

That darkness so sweet
Protecting our minds
From the horrors that were
And may yet in time

I get lost in my reveries
The biscuits are all ruined
Burned to a blackened crisp
I keep forgetting what I’m doing.
I don’t scold myself that much
I have gotten used to this state.
I’ve been this way ever since
I discover *** was so great.

Too soon ******
Too late wise.
It seems like I can’t
Believe my own eyes.
Living in a fantasy
I avoid using a knife.
It can mean catastrophe
When up against real life.

It shuts up all the voices in me
That tell me what a ****** I am.
It makes a wonderful movie of
What used to be a lifelong scam,
Where I once had not been worthy
Suddenly I was a loquacious stud.
Cannabis took me to the mountain
And out of the ordinary mud.

Too soon ******
Too late wise.
It seems like I can’t
Believe my own eyes.
Living in a fantasy
I avoid using a knife.
It can mean catastrophe
When up against real life.

But somebody should have warned
That soon it takes over your life.
It makes you forget work and bills
The chores and even the wife.
A forty something thirteen year-old
Is mostly what I have now become.
Parts of what I knew as my mind
Have become deaf, blind and dumb.

Too soon ******
Too late wise.
It seems like I can’t
Believe my own eyes.
Living in a fantasy
I avoid using a knife.
It can mean catastrophe
When up against real life.

Cold,
Hungry, Afraid of the other children stealing my lone possession,
My blanket,
My only protection from the bitter nights,

Another sleepless night,
Another oat in my empty stomach,
A man and woman walk in with a plate of food,
They search for a child to love,

I run with my weak legs towards them,
I face the children yelling,
“NO, NO” Scared of the children changing the adult’s minds,

I stop the other children from stealing my only hope, belief, future.
They laugh, thinking I’m cute,
The nuns take me out of the room away from the other children,

I sit with the adults in a white strange room,
All of my efforts of defense pay off as I am given the plate of food,
I have never tasted anything so warm, filling, replenishing,

They watch me shovel the food,
Thinking, pondering, whispering to one another,
They nod, smile at me
I never went back to that filthy room with the children,

the night in which
the dead come alive for a while

only to be frightened
right back to death
by the terrible masks and pumpkins
of the living

I dreamed
I was
At Birthwaite
I awoke
I was

Keith Wilson, Windermere, UK, Oct 2016

Each word was heavier then the next

Punctuations were blackholes

Trapping solars through the text

Translations read "I am not afraid of death"

I am however petrified of a timeline

Terrified of an algorithm trying to define the textures of my rhymes

And the tendencies of the contingencies that disorientate the frequencies of the bell chimes

Pitches that were left to malnourish in these chambers

In the same crucible that replaced its rudimentary nature

With walls of foam that absorb the most infinitesimal of vibrations

Along with windows with shades that annihilate rays of the most miniscule of molecules of the nights constellations

I continue mediating

Eternally Waiting

Forever Creating

Until I hear a voice

It slices through the vapors

Telling me to trek and claim terrain

To march to a candice on clay

Even though grass was my choice

Now Im Forced to grow the green In my psyches Elysian fields  

Because as a man dress in all orange  

The color of Freedom will always systematically appeal

Faceless reapers come to visit dressed in business suits for a deal

A contract drawn in blood to harvest my crops for their sacrificial meals

I signed knowing whats to come

And at the time I wished to leave with the skeletons

Hold their robes of night

Dance my digits along their scythe

Because I see the beauty in every one of them

And I would too

That's the purest of truths

If I only knew the right numbers to dial

But I have no clue

So I'll dance in limbo for awhile

Until Deja vu

Because I was promised as a child

That they'll give me a call when its my time

I just hope thats true