Saturday, 19 September 2009


How might I separate the air before me?
Thick tumultuous winds of anguish,
How to press the burning pressure that surrounds me?
To induce the heavy blocks of atoms to rip from my skull my flesh.
Red crushing shape I might become that might give me some sense of deliverance.

I haul out my innards and squash them dead flat.
A red mass, spreading a thin veil over the choking world.
Let it stretch so wide and distance me from the atmosphere.
Let my white bones be magnetised to that flesh and rip from my body.
Let me be left with only my knowledge of this growing distance.

And when my body surrounds me,
Let me see the colour of my pain.
Let it ache in every colour of the rainbow.
Between each divergence of tone,
Let there be another depth of experience;
A devastating Grain of Sand.

Let there be a thousand more shape shifting tunnels through each tiny granule.
A thousand routes to Hell.
This body once mine will convulse at its own loss of innocence.
Shockwaves ripple though the tightening flesh.
Every nerve ending screams and turns over.
Suddenly every thought I ever had surges through the great expanse.

Finally, at last remorse makes us sick.
Our stomach empties.
And relentless bile charges across the land,
An infinite barrage of brown horses covers blood stained opportunity.

I feel the pressure begin again, hard against the walls.
A hundred thousand tiny hands push the wreckage back together.
Dismay places my head back on my shoulders.
I have the body of a man once more.

Scars now surround my soul; a red and white prison,
I am once more caged inside my own flesh.
Bleeding eyes open and again I stand on top of a mound,
I Be beneath a convex sky.
Breath forces its way through my body,
And clutches me tight between the air.
This mortal condition becomes again my infinite stasis.

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