Denying the Flies

Didn’t see
it coming; not
that I couldn’t; just
didn’t. Didn’t
want to.
No one wants to;
not when it matters…
no one wants
to have seen it, even
if they could.. even
when they knew.. or at least

foresaw
an onrushing wake of mistakes.. and
closing probabilities.

No one’s ready
to see
when they figure
it might
turn out exactly
how they expected and refused
to acknowledge,
in ..disbelieving fear.. and…
no one
is really
prepared.

 

 

From Book IV

What Next?

Is too much
of a bad question
to ask
a thinking-man,
who mostly
spends most
of the next moment
somewhere… in the past;
for the past,
in experiencing,
was… reality, in
reliving is unreality
of dreams…
while a future..
a lone eventuality – in all of now,
is inscrutable myth!
for hardly
do dreams
entail a future.

 

 

From Book IV

The Mourner’s Writ

It is
to run slower,
to walk
at the pace
of despair.. that
moves to surround
and devour the whole
of what keeps
the mind.

 

It is
to not just be
haunted.. but also
to face
the hollows..
collect
the roar from winds..
patterns from thunder..
to hold still ..the rustle
betwixt cold fingers, and
try
to spell
a picture.

 

 

From Book IV