I look toward the high skies
Above these seas
I dream of cold brilliance
Beyond disease
When your hymn deep
Bath in stern endure
Unknown entity creeps
Her gaze erases me
Rolled by her rock
Woe indeed sneezes
Flayed and salt heated
While heaving and swerving
Blood stained borth, all are seated
Whose face is this
Look down checklist
Behind the bench
selling an extra inch
Queues and brands
Where the anxious stand
Things to prove
weight to move
Where does one find the energy
not getting any nearer to free
Filling idiotic fuel to chase
Just stall, ghost, foster malaise
The voice box mojo
Proud as volume grows
To fit bragging into the day
Debts accrue tomorrow pay
Eyes fix heavily
Judgement's severity
The warm closed room
New paint over the tomb
Sounds and words say honesty
false contracts appear readily
Senses dig and reveal lies
The wanters gossip and pry
This place fills with desire
Desperation sings a choir
Sense of missing the story
compounded by memory
Whose face must one wear?
When should one pretend to care?
Whose words must one repeat?
Imitation is quite a feat!
They all run so well
Supplement the swell
Of the over extended ego
On a fool tank of fomo
Counting the reps
feeling the ground
crowded by people
Alone
My calender is full
The man to my left mimicks me
the girl to my right laughs
But in three to six months they'll be gone
all noise and jokes
calender workout
The weight in my hand is light
I move it up and down painfully
Building myself up slowly
In a world I felt used to tear me down
I still have something to prove
Not to you, them or the haughty world
But the part of me you all convinced
I was weak and stupid
Powerful messages are given
you need stability reassurance
Energy is tethered
Everybody hurts
What are you looking for?
Who?
Is the silence a wall or a window?
You don't know.
Where the street curves
Your eyes go
Checking the road
on your comparisons
Monitoring from a distance
Learning nothing
Deliberate invisibility
Reading the letters
Analyzing every person
Every situation
You won't notice the unhappiness
There's no evidence that I'm struggling
Struggle your entire life
Spend most of it alone
The connection to the past is broken
Cycles ground down by my own will
Not wheeled around by destiny
For destiny seek
Never satisfaction
Not desperately within the wheel
Turning like an LP paranoid and in panic
The distance doesn't hurt
Don't carry the weight of my absence
The silence out here between us
Doesn't provoke jealousy
Proven by your own merit
Admit to your own watching
Your own closed loop
Not the person they say
Not the person before you
Not the answer just mystic
Wielding words and ideas
Disproving all predictions
Disrupting forecasts of downfall
The destiny sought
Unstoppable energy
Losing it all
all expectation
I found myself back
At sixty two
Empty handed
Boulder on the lawn
Frown weighing face down
Look back toward heaven's gate
The toward the sea
Just because you are found
Doesn't mean it is good
In my heart it is written
That finding myself lost
was the greatest of salvations
Você vê meus sentimentos escritos no meu rosto,
como palavras nesta página.
Você vê a decepção,
você vê a minha esperança,
Aquela que a juventude tentou esmagar,
mas ainda está viva, sabe?
Fracassou.
Subestimou.
Não vou engolir nada.
Vou te partir ao meio
pelos estrondos das minhas vontades sagradas,
pelo trem da sua inveja,
pela sua falta de identidade,
pelo seu barulho à toa.
Consigo olhar por dentro de você.
Através da pele,
a leitura é doce,
cheia de irritação,
expectativas irreais,
Pequenas profundezas que quero afundar ainda mais.
São superfícies sem sentido nem sentimento.
Mas não finjo nada.
Meus sentimentos estão escritos,
óbvios para todos.
Mas você vai fingir que eu não sinto nada.
Sem boa sorte,
sem beijo nem abraço.
E a despedida foi dada,
mas não chega.
O cheiro de ácido no ar.
There's this yellow abandoned train station again, it stands wrapped in weedy trees,
wattles and skeleton tall coprosmas. Something about it tells me it is a living creature.
The structure has no symmetry in it's basic front door and windows.
It has no semblance of a face either.
I returned from my walk with gramps, it transformed into a face.
It Beraded me.
"This is not your place. You should not have come back.
You will not come in. This is a sacred place.
You are not welcome."
I started to shrink, I needed to shrink, what a great way to be.
The yellow trainstation shook in fury.
Then trembled in fear.
I became the size of a four year old.
I pulled out a box of matches. Knelt next to the train station.
Flicked it true, sparked a flame, into the dead grass beside it.
In minutes the outer wall became an upside down river of flame.
Child me celebrating the greedy fire.
"Put me out." It said.
But I just stared at it's contorted face.
The heat of the roaring fire and the fake sun heating my tiny body.
In the excitement of the burning trainstation.
Perhaps the heat and euphoria I fell and vomited across the ashy ground.
I looked at the contents, to my amusement there were serpents in the spew.
Discolored by the stomach acid, they raced toward the flame.
I felt myself grow back as the smoke blessed me.
The serpents slid into the flames and started growing.
Their intricate scales and colors became incredible as they were now the size of full grown pythons.
The forest caught fire. The local false wind and sun wanted it to happen.
The child in me wanted it to happen.
The flames washed through. Burning all the way along the train tracks.
The burning continued for many of those purgatory days.
The wind died, the sun was blocked by the smokey darkness.
The ruins of the old town were still there, now standing above the ashes of the local forest.
Even the sign at the entry point.
-Relinquite omnem spem.
