Chest pains spoked wheels splayed
spooked reins horse bolting
bolted to blame, blood letting
pulled back black blade, only
resetting to restart the bleeding again
Spikes poking through fragile skin
invoking an imagined maelstrom
a stormy whirlwind
aching to return back to anything
apart from this terminal maddening
Making something, take something away from him
erasing stains on a tarpaulin burned
by chilled flames, raking the coals away again
embers of remembering, trained to
turn away from redemption again
But there is no such thing as redemption my friend
Sanitised sun baked, bleached white
arrayed days, stark sliding nights
sliding by, hours grinding inching
from sigh to sigh, snake minutes coiled
eyes blinking as time snails by
Stare at the wall and feel the anxiety
creep in. Wonder if maybe you'll give in?
Throw the towel in?
But an old lion finally growls inside, a singed paw
shrouds a tired mind.
Not this time my child, this hour is mine.
Changed chastening ideas
Passed around from ear to ear
Apeing dangerous ideals, like
Reimagining interiors and
Interned and interrogated
Like beetles stuck in trees.
Trying to get out from the inside.
Hiding from preying eyes
Eyeing up the prize
Of realising that it's ok
To even consider pride.
Consider prizing open the outside to
Peer at the inside.
Instead dreaming of the inner child that died.
Come to life, try to smile. A terrible puzzle but there the answer lies, enshrouded
But at least I tried.
bumble bee dreams bounce wings beat beat
hum drum dumb dreams complete draining days
bumbling alone or being swept off your feet
drained flowers, exhausted depleted stems
grainy pictures of women, mums and daughters
holding hands with boys, brothers, fathers
hoping to stumble into a warm flower hug
bumble alone from seed to seed, tumbling
down icy ravines into the recent deceased memories
dreary scenes dragged out of brain cells replaying
the same old stories
A glimpse of heartfelt wonder, holding hands on a sofa
handing over to harmful overtones overt sabotage
staging yet another rubble strewn diorama
denying the bumble bee the chance to recover
a tragedy as every bumble bee is to discover
by Paul Sinclair