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Evie Helen Nov 2023
Silence like treacle
Dripping on my ear drums
Drumming sweet beats that
Match my slowing breath
Thicker than blood and
More rancid than bile
Sitting on my forehead
And telling me to sleep
Someone say a word in this
Congealing quiet night
Make shapes with your mouth
And speak directly to my soul
I have no idea what this is actually about, enjoy
My neck is stretched and my heart is soaring.
My eyes have been blessed.
Baptized in a sea of sparkling treacle.
A sticky mess; I find myself stuck in an artwork.
Something so vast; I could never understand this artists mind.
My place is anywhere but this soil I stand upon, my feet are walking but I am never far from where I've been, am or will be.
All is now and now is everything.
I hold this key but there is no locked door to open.
Or is it a safe?
A diary?
Unbranded, I must look.
Directions to an unknown destination.
Is there anything that needs fixing?
Or are the screws fitted tight?
Does the bulb still hold light?
My neck is stretched.
I see a dome with lights, stuck to the unbreakable glass.
Dying to fall to the earth and flourish in our roots.
With the secrets, the directions.
I am blind.
Until I see the stars; I am unseeing and ignorant.
Like glowing rain that's stopped still in time and space.
     Until they fall.
Making humanity bloom.
I wait for this day.
A time that will never come.
A time that's already been.
A time seconds from now.
When that light falls upon my filthy skin.
I will be.
I wrote this after being absolutely dumbstruck at the sight of the sky in a small town called Ganmain, inland New South Wales. Everything was so alive and in my face. I couldn't leave that sky without a form of recognition and this is my acknowledgment to that universe beyond our tangible existence.
the first day of the New Year
has got off to a bad start
the resolution I made was
jettisoned off my cart

when another New Year swings
around again
I'll put that one on
my must do freight train

over the past decade
I've had several broken intentions
which have resulted in
not sticking to conventions

those who can oversight
an annual oath well
might just like sharing
their keeper's spell

here I sit eating what
I vowed I wouldn't eat
but gee I am enjoying
that sugary treacle treat

— The End —