Tag Archive | contentment

Sea Fever

The Call To Fluid Abandon

So dissolved is the prone self… The Sea is a dream
That fulfills but my yearning for total release
From the pressures of living in society.
I’m not good as a breeder; I fail completely.
Among all that is nebulous I find my peace.
There must be resolution for actions extreme.

The nostalgia transcends me. I am one with those
Who are drawn to the same soothing subconscious source
Of the spirit’s abandon and soul’s redemption.
Having been there before, it is life that I shun
In this prison of selfhood. The eternal force
Beckoning me to freedom is what my heart knows.

That the duty befits me, my choices are made
By the infinite cycles that churn the bottom
Of the cauldron of nature. In err I belong
In a world where I can do a whole lot of wrong
And where it’s more than likely that I’m seen as scum.
Rendezvous with enigma cannot be delayed.

The faint face of a person the surface reveals.
Constant movement expresses the changing currents
Of the modes of expression that I may release
What is left of my wretched soul and find some peace.
Nothing ever need become of my life’s events
And The Sea is the ultimate place where it heals.

Memories Cherished

Indelible Impressions

Many kindhearted people, some angels by now,
And with uncommon patience, have made who I am.
What is wrong about me is my own tangled mess
Aggravated by madness. I am, more or less,
Created in the image of those who I damn
With my inverse reflection, full well knowing how.

Beating up on myself I’ve made into an art –
Just as those who cared for me and those who I played
An unworthy role model… ruthless and profane.
I took every advantage and caused awful pain.
With my bed made, I’m sleepless and cannot evade
The grotesque beast that I’ve been with sickness of heart.

Planted deep in my conscious soil germinates seed
From the heart of the righteous. Love once within reach
Now is longing disabled. Survival logic
Is a piss poor facsimile and a cheap trick.
This I’m fully aware of. Lessons others teach.
Acting out as the student, I had failed to lead.

Not at all melancholy, pleasure now I take
In the clearness of knowing what my makers knew
Since before I had met them. The thoughts I embrace
Generated by feelings of knowing their grace
Satisfy but the least that my writing can do
To give some indication that I’ve come awake.