in search of lost time..
will i rail forever
against the moments past –
what has long since grown cold?
reanimating our bodies
our touches, words, and embraces –
who falls asleep and dreams it
and believes in a glimpse of the truth?
only i am left to navigate
my dog-eared, weary calendar,
my fractured timepiece –
this clock turned to compass
and astrolabe –
guiding me forth into dark seas
and moments i have stolen
i am still in search –
my beacon is dim but i doubt
it will ever go out.
i toss and turn in this makeshift
searching for the snag, the wrinkle,
the rip – in my chronology
the chance to sail beyond
a horizontal plane and spill off
into star-speckled eternity.
ship and sea and space, all one –
and me.. existing in a place
that has no place for me.
yet here i am, in the cosmos
having freed myself from the day
and night which limit me..
feeding warm light from my mind
to darkness, as all around me
the sky crackles into true being –
a back lit, scratched projector
for my memories.
will i ever go home?, i ask, to nothing..
away from my past-collided present,
and fragmentary strains
of perfect light –
or will i always come back
out of fear of nothing to suffer –
and nothing to write?
i am the navigator
who spilled off his course
and into unlimited being.
i write this line and wish
i could fall into the infinite depth
inside each tiny scrawl of ink..
the journey isn’t over.
.. it’s all in what you think.
once published on now defunct Whiskey Dregs Magazine dot com (2009)