I heard it in the ears, for years and years
But it always ended at the drum.
Just a word that vibrated through the air and happened upon me.
But only when you were gone for good
Did it travel to my blood.
Dead. Death. Die.
Oh how I used to cry.
At movies but no tears have flown for you.
Inside me is as still as your corpse
No movement except those words.
To Drum. To Blood. To Numb.
“I think God is the first person who died”
That’s what my seven year old said as he we played together.
Wow. Wow. Wow.
I had never considered that.
Also I had never considered the very first person who died.
Where was their heaven if one believes in such things ?
Who greeted them in that tunnel of light ?
No prophet yet born. No lamb of God shorn.
Was it the Devil ?
That doesn’t seem fair.
Sent to his lair.
Or hers. For just being first.
Man or woman ? Was it Adam or Eve?
Whatever you believe. Somebody was the first to go.
The first to leave.
Before all the fuss of what to follow
Makes it all seem hollow.
Dare I say silly ?
Dare I ?
I’ll find my way gently through this life
I’ve learned not to erode the rocks I face
That can be another river’s war.
I will meander and find the easier way
Where are my balls you say ?
They’re floating. They’re floating.
I cannot be the sea.
It’s just not me.
I cannot command the force of a thousand leagues
When I am sourced from a puddle.
It’s not a bad thing.
I feed the birds not the herds.
The smaller folk can paddle their feet
While others bomb their way into deeper days
I will burble and gurgle and make the day sound better.
So take a sip. A little dip.
But If you require complete annihilation
I’m not the one for your libation.
Decadent mortals living as if there was no tomorrow
There won’t be. Not like today.
Throw it away. Throw it away.
Each discarded wrapper is another nail in your plastic sarcophagus.
You think this sphere is just rock ?
It breathes you know.
Its lungs are just as tired as yours will be
Think of all the living things as cells
Then perhaps you won’t create your hell.
Is it worth it for a shiny thing
That no birds sing ?
You and only you must look at your hands
And see the weapons that you each bear
Their ability to tear.
Throw it away ? Another day ?
Do you have one ?
I am aeons old
Memories fall over me that are sourced beyond this lifetime.
I have seen the shadow and shade of a million sunrises and of a billion dawns.
I walked with mammoths and swam in the first trickle of what you now pour down your throat.
When I close my eyes I have leagues and legions to keep my tired mind awake.
I am older than you can ever begin to imagine.
But only because I remember.
I remember it all.
The clang. The pressure. The bang.
I was here but so were you.
You changed. I changed.
Form and format.
Sulphuric air to liquid lair then beautiful solid shapes.
Soon I will be plasma but I won’t forget your eyes.
The anchor to my every life.
In each tick of a meaningless second
In an infinity of moments
I am yours.
All shapes. All matters. All ways.
Half finished knitting, lying like a sad multicolored cat on the table.
A half crudely cut curtain grimacing at me from the shadows
Projects I intend to finish but never do.
I do things by halves. Perfect halves.
That’s heart and soul and pieces of flesh.
And that’s why I’m finished. Complete.
You came into this halfheartedly.
And now I am at a loose end.
I carried marbles when I was with you
I held tiny , the worlds that I should have lived
But when I let go and they scattered
I wasn’t empty. I wasn’t shattered.
I watched each roll about its shiny way
And I knew I would be ok
I hadn’t lost my marbles
I had set them free
Tiny worlds away from thee
Little spheres of perfect glass
To show me the insignificance of what did pass
There was never an us
Just you. Just me.
I didn’t lose my marbles
I set them free.