New year,

Old habits.

New lessons,

Old responses.

New steps,

Old path.

New rules,

Old rebellion.

New change is needed,

Old methods to be aborted.

If only I could catch

A Falling star from the sky

And save it to make a wish

In the darkest 'our.

If only I could ******

The last ray of sunlight before night

And save it to brighten me up during one of God's trial.

To myself I ask, say
who am I and wait.
I don't know, but
every time I ask this
explicitly or implicitly
in the voice that isn't
even head voice,
echoing in the head,
but that unknown
experience of yourself
saying something
to yourself
without words.
I smile a little.
Repeatedly asking
this question gives
more strength and will
of what I know not,
than before, even
on failing to get
a definitive answer.

There is nothing left
but a mute scream
wrapped in barbed wire
dipped in gasoline

Holding the match
between teeth
clenched tight
dreaming sulfur,
sparks

Oxygen feeding
combustion equals
explosion,
vacuum,
creation of
emancipated
******

*

-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications; 2016

I am
clothed but yet ,
Naked.
I bare witness,
To everything.
But yet,
I recall nothing.

Who am I?
Who am I looking at?
Tahirih
And who are you?
I am pure
I am good,
My name said so.

25-february-2016