disintegration: staring into dark waters (last night)

disintegration

children dream into 

their day and the springy 

youth rises with purpose

pushing out for eternity

me i am old ,starting

to limp , shrinking in

the shade of my past,

shrivelling in my life

first i could sleep ,

all mud sieved, 

my mind clear,

my soul could breathe

now i feel the ballast

of years and nights 
of tears, of pain,

i let it go, it wells up

i need disinfectants, doped
or purified with poisons,

horrified by all delusion, 

this drowsy fool cannot sleep

i told him to go,

to live, to live now, 

but opening so much

all breaks into him

enters, lingers, gnaws, 

destroys all illusion,

decay and loss remain.

freedom is not much fun

i must shed my very skin

like a snake, hide in strange

places, under cigarette butts,

rotting leaves , shopping bags,

in hotel beds, until i find

innocent perception, me,
near the gates of death

and desire, not beauty,

but staying alive, wriggling

on the ground, among the
crowds and all alone,

i wait for my wings

i walk to my ends

and through my beginning,

undressed, dreamless,

exhausted by futility

i am not ashamed

nor can i be understood,

at limbo, half asleep

and longing to laugh

i gave, i give it

another day and another

until all threads tear 

and i can fly

leaving the cocoon,

it can remain for a while

for memory, for reflection,

a symbol of freedom,

a reminder of time

being different for each one,

i will not fly forever

but in forever now

we have in common

that we all will die,

and though love is forever

i refuse to drown

why to catch,

to keep a butterfly ,

no, open the window, 
open it wide,

to come in or to go out,

go feed, go walk the dog , 
giving ease to his soul, 
rejoice and sing

when he barks and bounces.

regret, anger,remorse

guilt, grudge, fears, 

to be alone with the waves

is better than all this,

there is days and nights

to come for me, what

i will give to me,

departures, horizon,

wind and finally the sea,

this is the waste land

from where i came

and where i go,

it is where the 
heart is born,

its wildness has space

now all happens 
there, thorns and apples,

you can keep your hands

and send lost kisses through

the gaps in time and

dream, they’ll be like

bottle mails, thrown into

water to travel by chance,

and then dreams will be

too late , sacrificed to 

doubt and silence,

smiles will crumble

and masks will fall,

old hurt will invent

new hurt and live

from the story, the lies

and person for person

will stand up and speak:

see this is me, this is me.

and the boats will pass.

by then the ants 

will have eaten all,

courage, blood and flesh.

the small things eat big words

they bring down kingdoms

and human construction,

art and prophets, poets

and priests and lovers, all.

here i sit and wonder

how to meet destruction,

and i wish i could sleep

and wake into a soft morning

birds sing, flowers open,

i dream and do nothing,

far from thought, silent

and somehow reborn.