Friday, April 20, 2012


My hands are bound fast within by my pride,
They take me along for a foolish ride!
My friends all jeer and laugh and then they clap
Hands upon me, and then force me to tap!

Once long ago I was merely me,
A silent force of reality.
Since then I've become a sight to see,
But none of this show is really me.

Caught in a whirl, a tornado,
Remembering bits, snips of Plato,
The image at the cave's gate, Oh!
Yet falling down, stubbing my toe...

Now the music begins new,
People pour down me a brew,
Such dread cold! Not warm as stew,
Each douse they in part me slew...

Cannot see before me,
Is that a man or a tree?
Cannot hear around me.
To happy, merrily...

Begin to sing songs,
They all sing along!
I start to forget,
Yet inside I fret.

Darkness descends
Upon mine eyes,
Shadowy fens,
Wild lust and cries.

Cannot see,
Hear the sea,
Smell her hair,

Too drunk,
Can't speak,
A punk,
Not meek.


Yet no,
Can't go,
Must cease!

Befriend her;

They shout at me,
Too full of glee,
They cannot see,
This cannot be!

Run away from them,
Out the door, from den.
Escape by the moon,
Twilight's blessed noon.

They call me back again,
To their hearts I must tend!
But not until I Am
Tells how to be a man.

Music inside of my head,
I start to feint and I dread
That they have returned, instead,
I find myself safe in bed.

Yet still the ache inside Mon Tete,
Remains as though a lively bet.
Proves that my friends designs upset,
Before I did mortal sin whet.

Now hid beneath my blankets and sheets,
I wonder how to accomplish feats
That came to me in my dreams, complete
The task heard in the depths of hearts seat.

Thus am I now troubled within my heart,
How to leave the past behind and to start
Upon the straight and narrow gate? Impart
O God, how to save me from my darker parts?

                                                      Waywardly, (c) Luke Bennette, April 2012

No comments:

Post a Comment