Open Poetry #38 |
Echoing Memories |
themute Member
since 2006-05-08
Posts 469Maryland |
Lock slow un-turning friction gagged screams of the metal on metal pushed to graze violent and painful to hear Click that flicks a sound that rings messages that wont end like a line going into infinity based off of one point based in a space that’s bases on theory Infinity to the vibration of its sound and of its movement, which will never end, but die down like the children of a auditorium, they are never really silent when they snicker In my echoing memory I hear its sound without limitation and without a reason or sense to the end of its constant sounds Echoing memories then come to me of its importance to my goods my things my possession obsessions that lead me nowhere but fear And I’m afraid that the click I heard was not the right kind and I may have turned a key the wrong direction My house could be broken and my accumulated masters of me would be lost and my distractions from myself along with it I need my distractions because if I sit without doing, I will have to find my true self and I’m afraid to do so for I am ugly, when I ideally wish to be beautiful Tick just like a clock like the clock I stare so deeply at that I can’t see or hear anything else but the hand that’s ticking and in my mind I hear the flick I hear when locking Seeming stop that kills the mind for moment’s maybe days I see the knob that made me sound which made me pound my head that’s round for answers Only in the silence only in the black only in the empty can acumen makes its home So my death of mind was made by the flicking of a switch that made me worry for time and for money; for possession, and life. I wonder when it’s going to come back to me in my echoing memories I am the two-toed wanderer |
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