Search This Blog

FROM THE MULTI-POLAR MIND OF A RECOVERING EX-USER

not poetry, not purposeful, not pretending









...

Sunday, 12 June 2011

Cloud

Kept secrets of the past, denied
That was me, my brains were fried;
Faces merge within the crowd
That one’s me, up on the cloud.

Your face rings bells, were you my lover?
Or is that something I’ll discover?
This place feels strange, like déjà vu
Or is that stuff I’ve yet to do?

I don’t hide things, but they do get lost,
I don’t buy rings, but still pay the cost;
This place is mine, you’ll find me here
Within walls of love built from bricks of fear.

Whenever I’m backed into a corner
I always lie, it’s the way I mourn; their
Faces blur, smudge into cloud,
I stand here still, these words endowed.

Secrets of the past are well worth losing,
Makes it look like our actions were on-the-spot choosing,
When echoes of the future are what we’re holding,
When what’s going on is really fate unfolding.

5 comments:

  1. Hey, you down there, on the cloud below
    Float up to me and I will show
    you reflections in my eyes
    Of times long past and compromise,
    Of secrets held, locked deep inside,
    Of faces blurred and some despised...
    Of innocence - so pure, so true
    When I was me and you were you.
    So lose the ones that hurt you most,
    Exorcise malevolent ghosts
    Let secrets of the past unravel,
    Going once... going twice... hit the gavel.










    Of sky so blue

    emotional rescue -
    Yes, déjà vu

    ReplyDelete
  2. We all mourn in different ways. Lieing is as justified as crying.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Disagree. Crying or laughing is better than lying

    ReplyDelete
  4. ... with clearer nights, when thoughts run free and emotions flood the very essence of our being

    ReplyDelete