Black Mirror

Themes of death seepedinto my dreams as a child. Streams of existential guilt flowing into scenes of judgement and descents into an eviscerating infinity. Over and over.

Maturity first bred weariness, Deep in teenage flux, twisting through the purpose of my time, Preordained or to be determined? My thoughts anchored in morbidity. "For I did not choose to be"

Alas I did not implode, but rather, Surrendered to the fevers of thought, A victim reduced to mere survival, till the burden set me free. Now impassioned by mortality I see...

It was a black mirror to peer inside, To find joy where I once cried.

Identity

The endless possibility of my identity,Bound by a chain of bittersweet recollections, Am I a mere vessel for the past in the present? Like an oak adding layers over years, Tall and mighty yet clinging to sapling dreams.

Am I bound by your memories? As a son, a brother, a friend, a lover. Time can be the mind's corrupt governor, Knotting memories into your being, That occupy the present and taint your heart with the fear of repetition, And an unjust weariness that belittles life's essence.

Am I a memory of self-unfolding?

If I am to be a vessel, May it not be to ancient whispers, lacquered with incessant after-thought. May I instead be a host to my own humanity, Alive to the decay that darkness brings Through shadows that impersonate life.

You've been hiding in the undertow, Let me see the face hidden from my own eyes. May I be ever present in the now, For that is all there will ever be of me.

Camouflage

"I've lived and died in the mirrors of strangers eyes.

Drawing from a cast of thousands, each elaborate disguise.

Yet even in this theatre, Primed for weary reprise, An inquiry ripples through, Under the skin of old lies.

Who am I? But In between and unseen longing for someone to recognise"

Magnificent

 

I've been grasping for the roots

of a timeless tender part of me,

Beneath the weight of masks imposed,

Juxtaposed against an arid earth,

Parched and pleading through the hurt.

Looking back through wiser eyes,

The patterns did repeat,

Self-fulfilling prophecies

built but an empty street,

With alleys of broken parts,

hidden and channeling rain,

To cleanse, to fill

a hollow habitat.

It percolates...

A barricade of fantasy,

Woven around a heart,

Is but a means to cope

with the ache of each beat,

when eyes trained to lack,

lock the mind in struggle,

a palette of demons,

reduce life

to survival.

To this place I have come,

Under the honesty of the sun,

To sense gain from every toil,

As old pages turn to soil,

Here my child does sow,

A grace I have come to know,

To shed the skin of a martyr

and feel... magnificent...

Reef

Cast me deep beneath these foaming waves, Where with borrowed breath I can see the shades

of ancestral dreams dance across the reef floor.

For there I am a shadow no more, a shadow no more.

My aching body gliding through words unspoken,

My pulsing heart rippling through promises broken,

To where my landless hopes still twist in the beams of the sun

Oh cast me now, Cast me deep, For here we are never one.

Meridian

They breathe...

this wood, these walls

and the memories upon them.

Free from my forgetful haze,

To compose calm from ruin.

Held in this lunar caress,

We lie in silent witness,

To the dance of fireflies

in echoes of our old lives.

And in your soft eyes,

In this thirst between our lips,

We find maps to this meridian.