Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Osmosis

Osmosis

little by little, it seeps through me
my sanity, a reservoir and they have just blown the dam
everything I give a damn about
feels so uncontrollable to me
I can feel it leaking through the cracks of my fingers
I can feel it sliding down the backs of weary hands
I can feel it slipping arm’s length, towards disaster
I don’t have the strength
to hold this together
all of my hopes and my dreams spill out of control
at these moments
I pour myself freely
see
I can feel it running out all over again
my sanity leaks from the tip of my pen like
warm water wrung from a rag
I cannot contain this
emotions poured heavy into
old paper bags
it’s a miracle my soul is not flooded
I cannot explain this, I’ve had
good days flow steady like
streams connected back to sunbeams
but these things couldn’t help wash away
my bad, always sitting like
rain clouds in the distance, forecasting sorrows
ill intentions shading my dreams with the downpours of
tomorrow, and I am sad
that most times I feel like a miracle, unprepared
uninformed to be witness
so it’s almost like I’m not really there
and I get this
strange feeling every time I spit this
spilling little pieces of self
that I am losing a part of me
but I keep this
sharing libations in the form of lyrics, it is for my sake
that they feel it
so when the time comes that I am empty
they’ll still drip me from the recesses
maybe I can’t make a way out of no way
but maybe my words can permeate depressions’ defenses
put some chinks in the armor of doubt
and make them want to keep tearing down adversity’s fences
because
whether spilling out passion or flooding out pain
my soul has known too many partitions
barriers content with restriction, and though I try my best to
break through them freely
a part of me gets lost in the process
the concentration of me isn’t what it used to be
as I concentrate my words on pouring out a message
I splash heavy, I boil over, I simmer
remembering all the days
this life was a stream of the unimpressive
but I remind myself of sympathetic hearts
that brimmed like lakes
adopting me into their waters
and if I can squeeze out a drizzle of that
love in the process
perhaps we can all reclaim order
all be washed clean
all be reflooded with hope
and this is what keeps me going
swimming these sometimes insane seas
fighting to keep kicking as I try to stay afloat
kinetic strokes through a stagnant ocean
because
I am a movement, that must keep moving
as one moving part of a forever moving wave
and I hope they soak me up
I hope my words infuse, that they may use me for good
hope I can remain
forever, poetic osmosis

[END POEM]

I hope this one is enjoyed.

the Rare Poet

No comments:

Post a Comment