I, Dormouse
I, dormouse
This is no kind of life For we are all dormice Being torn from our love To squirrel away all our lives Working at something we didn't choose To bring us shelter And brief glimpses of what it all could be Never able to keep what we collect for the proverbial rainy day. Because it was said And so written We gain nothing but the next day And is that enough To go to our graves Being forever owed From the previous ones toil. I dare say not. Even rebellion would lead to the same end And there is no solace to be found in that. Perhaps I should leave then Sail the seas And walk the paths of my forebears But with that comes the paradox Of not being able to afford my shelter or sustenance I would surely come to the end much sooner Than if I had remained that timid dormouse Once again Squirrelling away for the Never ending winter
More Posts from Tblackwater and Others
I'm finding that as I get older Getting older feels divine Now I don't believe in the divine There's just no better word to describe The feeling of age in my mind Now sun is dead ahead And the road is behind. I'm being blinded, Is this the cost of freedom? Too much coffee And not enough sleep Black. Light. Spots. Peaks don't help when Stars are staring you down And December is no place For tinted lenses
Still sailing
The reef cracked my hull Yet I sail on My hold has begun to fill Yet I sail on The cabin is splintered, destroyed Yet I sail still Strakes fractured Sails are tattered Yet on I go And as I watch the last slow match fall I pray none of the powder is dry
Awaiting questions
Still waiting. The entertainment Has long since dried up The beast The man The boy We sit We wait Always we wait Forever so it seems. We wait. No ticket No number Just the cold, hard, plastic Of our chairs And the bright, fluorescence, hanging overhead. In walks another Dressed brightly With a smile painted upon his face Does he represent another side? Or is this one wholly separate? The jester sits In front of the three: The boy The man The beast. He sits And he asks
Send help
Lying at once Both prostrate And supine This sleep has become a contradiction Spinning round This waking rest Is more restless Than my time spent awake
Lioness
I was disappointed
Disappointed in a way I never had been before
I gave you my love and support
And you gave me your best
But your best
Through no fault of your own
Could not contend
You were robbed
Of what should have been yours
And despite what happened between us
You still have
Me
Thoughts confuse me
Is this right Or am I Just Projecting society inside myself Wanting what I should want Rather than what I do want Enjoying what should be enjoyed Rather than deciding for myself Should you want something Just because you can do it Should you enjoy something Just because you're good at it How do we know When we are conditioned so Taught what to want And How to feel Learning only when It's too late That we don't Have to participate When we've already run the race
Closed, go away
Too much duvet In the way Thinkings not allowed We're closed The mind opens at 10 Come back then Wait outside if ya have to Just don't expect any Privileges for being keen Sharp as a stone The mind opens at 10 On The Dot Just five minutes more Just five Minutes more
Do I exist if they no longer see me Am I the tree In the proverbial wood. Do they forget what they no longer view In the stream Like the fish within the herons shadow. Do I leave their thoughts Like the night As soon as the sun has risen. Am I out of my mind When I am out of theirs Was I out of mine To leave.
Subversive social commentary
...we’re fucked.
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tblackwater reblogged this · 9 years ago
"I am the sea at night."All works by me unless stated otherwise.
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