Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Poem for Tonight. And Life.
Only Alice (6th December, 2011)
Lift foot off the gas; I’m slowing this down:
a series of journeys that never end;
if life has no meaning, what do I read
in all of this? And why the sacrifice?
Decelerate: time bleeds red into white
and blackens; I shift through patterns of work
and sleep; other needs matter not. Shattered.
Don’t admit defeat; play, smile and eat; keep
breathing. Can you feel my heart beating slow;
rise and fall with echoes of what I know?
Pull wheel to the left, and then to the right:
I twist and turn; brake, accelerate, fight.
Open roads are pure American dreams,
right? British hearts seek destinations; they
chase white rabbits for explanations, and
bury themselves in their deprivations.
Tonight, I blink at the blank white screen; I
try to apply restraint to the shape of
my words, but find no boundary. Clocks are
the only obstacles: they go light speed.
I’m only Alice for this one night stand,
against the walls I’ve built; I will show my
hand. So, eat me, drink me, devour my mind;
you’ll go blind. Accelerate: tears disguise.