by Armada the Gestalt   Sep 20, 2015

These are the chains they put around me,
I long to run wild,
Where the waves pulse like an ancestor's breath,
Where the weight of muscles sluice into absence,
Tooth of shark and whips in the deep,
Earth and stone and magnitude shifting,
Skies that often out into vastness,
A silken sheet draped over a Wintering grey eye.
Crackling, snapping, cracking, clanking,
Rusting, mildew, fungal resting,
and in the beat of the feet on the earth and the curling of sap,
the thundering waves and rolling cloud-skies,
and in the silences that stretch where voices do not reach,
Raucous calling rounding over and piercing the feeble glass,
the darknesses deeper than colour,
that pricks through the veil with a human's ugliness,
the pressure, not stillness, that sways and shadows like snows,
The salt and breathing in, and breathing in.


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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by Em

    This is magical. A breath of fresh air.

    I love how you portray running wild probably free of thoughts, people and even with plenty time like in a dream then like a delicate piece of glass you come back to reality with a bang.. So many can relate to wanting to be free of darkness but it only happening in our dreams.

    Great imagery.
    Great write. Em

    • 6 years ago

      by Armada the Gestalt

      Ha, thank you. Yeah, a rare poem from my own heart. Most of them I just start writing and let it happen, like knitting, but I actually had something in mind for a change. I guess my poetry over the last year or so has been a catalogue of the ups and downs of my mental illness so, it figures.

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