Truth And Intimacy/A Poet’s End

I can point to problems
and offer no helpful solutions
i can feign resolve
while living in dissolution

i can be smothered in fragrant aromas
to veil my pollution
i am bitter
i am angry
i am seething
i am nothing good
of no good use to anyone
nothing good may come of me

i am a waking nightmare
resident of a blank stare
a foggy view
upon mist kissed glass
becoming clearer
drawing nearer to,
the part of me i can’t bear to look at

Heraldic nomenclator
emerging through a mirror
a messenger
who doesn’t know his purpose
in between
the depths of messages
and the flotsam and jetsom on the surface

One day totally lost
one day completely found
caught flat footed
yet somehow aware
of the curvature of the ground
upon which i stand

And the circles
within …
intrinsic circles
within cycles of suggestions
missing clear commands
self absorbed in catharthic cocoons

Given a lifeboat…
yet still feeling marooned
how selfish can i be?
knowing i have not yet begun to share
the deepest parts of me
where You dwell

For fear…
of what might emerge
from out of…
so once fractured…
a shell

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Truth And Intimacy/A Poet’s End

  1. At the airport: All that unsightly baggage carrying idiocy, bile, “criminal” records can simply be left on the turnstile downstairs going round and round but never again intentionally retrieved by you. When the enemy says “Isn’t it back in your hand again Sucker?” You reply “no Homeland Security took it and checked for bombs. It held several but they wouldn’t get it at all. Next stop some last ditch closet for a couple of weeks and then the landfill site.”
    You know what is to be picked up next. You somewhat dread it – loss of idols, lusts and paths of old. But you are constrained by fresh love, and the awesome draw of it establishes the New Man in Christ. In increments of victory only half understood. (Doug)

  2. You are sorely missed by all…out on the front porch and back paddock:)

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