The Noose

The Noose May 2018

Ferocious and dispersed

The vultures glide

In the stratosphere

Devouring what was god.

January 14 2013.

The Noose May 2018

Aimless wander
In the unfathomed depths
I drove into the walls of truth
Disentangled my mind
From the imprudent rationalisation
Of the subjective.

The Noose May 2018

Parents' house at dusk

The late afternoon sun
Whose heat dusk would soon to absorb
Sifted through the window
Exposing particles of dust
Lightly strewn on the glistening cement floor
Of the passageway
It must have been September

Daisied grass beneath my feet
Ladybird crawling along my fingertip
A fleet of autumn birds on the wing
Above me in their hundreds
Their remedying cadence
Humming and resonating in my head
It must have been September.

The Noose May 2018

Of those who knew not

When we heard stories
Of those who yearned
To feel the void in their hearts
with experience
To drive away the cold
through design
Stories of those who knew not
what to do with their hands
How circumstance
became the author of who they were
And how they gave up the ghost while teetering on the precipice of possibility
They told us of the fearless
Who pranced
on cliffs with steep edges
The hopeful
Who clung to the almost with dead hands

The Noose May 2018

The twilight of dreams

In the twilight of dreams
The hollow corridors echo
Louder than ever before
The walls are smeared
In nostalgia
Memories creep in
And congests weary minds

Somehow
We march onwards
Like intrepid lions
Cognisant of unkind truth
The way is long
And if we crumble now
We may never recover.

The Noose May 2018

Abstract

1. Was I supposed to become a desert in the centre of winter? Was the ivy supposed to coil around my hands. Ever so tightly.
2. Deciphering ambiguous signals is a prelude to madness
3. Let me ****** you with the promise of never after.
4. Trying to sink a while in these threads of light.
5. Syllable altered mood
6. It gets hard in the middle, the start is child's play and the end. Always is.
7. I was confused, set adrift, I haven't been able to find my footing since.
8. Sometimes we die before our dreams breath their last breathe.
9. Wrapped in debris, what was constellates at my very feet.
10. Mosaic of all that has disintegrated.
11. Eviscerate the issue.
12. All my longing carried away in the breeze.

The Noose May 2018

Descent

I want to descend
from the razors edges
To stray from these borders
Darkened by virulent desires
My bones crackle
Blood runs cold
Devoid of reason but not choice
The familiar bother
I want to love
The will to be is
But my hair smells of madness
And running and running.