A poem to start things off:

Explorations at the Edge

A looping thought-spiral seduces me.
I follow its flickering logic
til seeing me lost, it winks out.
I am alone in darkness.
There is nothing to lead me
back to Center, back to
safely-mapped, well-lit
nooks and habit-crannies.

Yet here, too, is me: if unexplored,
the more intriguing.
Intent is all, intent to heal,
to map, to bring light to depths
filled with echoes of screaming.

A door creaks open under its own power.
Eyes blink glowing green.
Hulking shadows rattle chains in
distant tunnels.
The sound of drip, drip, dripping
viscous fluid - not water –
here are secrets hid,
and from here have I fled,
in fear of feeling.

I notice the shadows,
the monstrous ugliness,
the flapping batwinged horror,
the child, crying incessantly
(- the Child, crying incessantly -)
the crazies locked behind padded walls
to muffle their shrieks
to silence their revealing madness,
the lunatic raving that causes me
to question the underpinnings of Truth

Intention crystallizes:
I open the door
I flick on the lights,
I sweep the Child into my arms,
I shelter her, naked and scabrous
and I weep
and the walls weep with me
and the wind howls,
raging, shrieking,
sweeping clean thick-dusted corners,
tossing small batwings ass-over-teakettle,
forcing Crazies and Mutants alike
to snatch for support
lest they be hurled away from
their source and sustenance,
me

The squall passes; pressure equalizes
and we eye each other, sizing up -
Mutants, Crazies, Child and Consciousness,
shedding light on that which will
remain in darkness no longer.
With the light comes understanding
of the One-in-All, and
God’s reflection, everywhere.

This entry was posted on Monday, January 2nd, 2006 at 12:10 am and is filed under poems and lyrics. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.