mercoledì 19 giugno 2013

di questi tempi credo che questa sia una giusta autocitazione..self-quoting is always a bit more fun..:)

'Issuing forth'

Issuing forth
from behind a dream
all in, all out
and the water
the drenching water
gushing out like transparent blood
leaking through my vest
all the way
to the floor
as it issues from me.

Bits of me, there,
me, not touching you. And you there.
Here. Mind never quite sure, of what, a dream, a nightmare, or a spy, of my thoughts, of my every thought, and from my eyes straight to the innermost portion of my shaken soul.

I was there, searching my every word, looking for a tear uncried, and an unbroken dream.
Gusts of wind near my body, sea-side flip flops, sand, cloth, wood, rubber self, my life and you.

Shreds of torn paper,
Handwritten notes, a diary,
Info on a page.
All the rest a shambles, an empty unwashed tea-cup, and you there, eating your sandwich by the telly, watching the news.

She kept getting suggestions, day after day, that life wasn’t just what her eyes presented her with. She began to think past vision and into dreams, of a world in which she was walking as if in a deluded state or blind-folded. She could hardly breathe when such thoughts possessed her. On occasion, she would feel lightheaded and need a touch of something to get her back into shape. It was as if she had to force herself to stay alive, the very materiality of life surrounding her was escaping and dissipating – and people weren’t being much help in turn.  She felt she could go any minute, when she thought about that. But somehow she still survived the strange reverie and managed to step past the frantic threshold of unreal dreams. Ghosts became part of her daily life. She kept chasing them away.