(no subject)
Beaches
Formless things are true
for the past comes back for you
your consciousness awakes
to the breaking sound of waves
you wonder if it was for naught
when tangibility was all you sought
you stare down upon that cliff
waiting, watching the noose, a gift.
spidery veins of the wall of cracks
form the threshold against pain
memories hanging thrashed upon
gnarled tree of the dead beyond
which I see, yet the great white sceptre
of the moon allowest not the lift of
the barred door.
The waves crash again in the day
and you wonder what happened here
so long ago on a forgotten night
when the peregrine falcon gave you such a fright.
are you real or ghost,
drifting with memories along the coast?
unable to speak,
only to sigh about the mistake you made
one mooonlit night.
Formless things are true
for the past comes back for you
your consciousness awakes
to the breaking sound of waves
you wonder if it was for naught
when tangibility was all you sought
you stare down upon that cliff
waiting, watching the noose, a gift.
spidery veins of the wall of cracks
form the threshold against pain
memories hanging thrashed upon
gnarled tree of the dead beyond
which I see, yet the great white sceptre
of the moon allowest not the lift of
the barred door.
The waves crash again in the day
and you wonder what happened here
so long ago on a forgotten night
when the peregrine falcon gave you such a fright.
are you real or ghost,
drifting with memories along the coast?
unable to speak,
only to sigh about the mistake you made
one mooonlit night.