Thoughts (in three movements)

I never thought, nor was I taught

that soul searching is to search for soul

Solace, solitude, how crude it would be

not to use that which evolution has given to me

Walking upright from the plains, freed from chains

by newly developed human brain, part rational, part insane

Window pane offers vistas of nothingness

nothing less than a blessing

At best, an insurmountable test, that one may be counted among the ‘or died tryings’

 

For only from nothing can something be built

To sift through the silt, to ride the tide

to follow the pathway narrow not wide

Path of most resistance travelled with persistence

no matter the distance left to ride

 

At that moment, chain of thought,

endless ruminations of cognitive discourse

forced aside by a force powered by greed and pride.

The Artist sent for rendition; decision made by men in positions

of power that should not exist

Physicians of final hour that could not persist forever

Resistance endeavour was never supposed to end like this

 

Shouting, fists, zip ties fixing wrists

to a steel chair in an inner city sub-basement

Encased in concrete space, the pacing of feet, smell of frozen meat

No sight, no light, no sound from the street

Click clack Glock, head hits block,

“This is for mocking the flock,

senile psychopathic aristocratic stock,

gathered like pigeons beneath the clock”

 

Cattle prod shock knocks you unconscious once more

Last sound you hear – rat tat tat at the door

“He can take it no more sir, this one you adore sir,

going cold on the floor sir, end this, I implore sir!”

 

You stir, you shake, you wake and shower

Asleep for an hour but elsewhere much longer

Not awake. Input incoming from separate source

Amazonian force that courses upstream,

not a dream, something other

Ensconced by jungle, in the arms of a mother

And as you flow onwards, all that’s left to do is just be

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