Unwalked Pathways [poem]

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When strange cosined estrangement
makes its strangled mark around
my desert journey’s restless crazed abode
I’m forced to pay the price the piper plays
when gigging for some vassal lord
who loves not music with his heart
but only has the need for what he deems
will fit the bill (that’s quite apart from all
the times I swallowed hard the sugared pill
they made me take [which even common sense
would show was merely fake {placebo is the game}]).

Balanced on the golden bough
(though perching there is disallowed)
I know that I must now consign
my void and guttered dreams to
history’s dustbin’s thin and staggered vault
while chasing some insteadness with my
hugely filtered gaunt sequestered
(though extremely dead and keening
faultlined sunshined [never festered])
guillotining breastmilk-weaning diligence.

Dead’s a good thing by the way —
if dead you understand aright —
no matter what the grockles
(those who’ve made their home
upon this broken earth) may say.

For, passing out through hyperspace,
I see the folly of the pseudo-race
now known as human but of which
one day there will not even be one
single trace and all the stupid dreams
ambitions deep desires conversations
funeral pyres we overmade and called
religions visions grand designs
and all the phoney borderlines we drew
and all the other nonsense which we grew
will be as heaps of hologrammic
images which angel types can view
to see what fallen really means
while somewhere in the desperate
darkly distance muffled screams
will slowly and unholy wave their
wasted muscles until nothing more
is heard except one hideous frightful
word which every fleshly grouping
in their deeply creeply inner temple
knows but which until that moment
had not ever flowed across the mortal
cosmic [sic] collective historyyarns of
futile unmourned metamorphic madness .

Against such power we can never take up arms
or use our earthly charms for we are merely
grains of dirtful sand estranded outlaws on the
shores of bland infinity’s lastly outpost mostly
unlit signpost coastal nightmare going nowhere.

© 2012, Alan Morrison

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