It Cages My Head, My Cap
If time was a cloud that forgot to rain,
Would you care to sit under a tree?
If the wind failed to disturb the curtain,
Would you consider yourself to be free?
I have put out the candle in the presence
Of fireflies that died and became mere flies
That you throw out without batting your eye.
I slept with them, burned them in the morning
And held the unlit candle to the sun.
My sighs were tissues drenched in blood
That failed to soak the tears, instead
Bloodied my face, and I couldn't even recognize
The convulsions of uncertainty, I couldn't even
Hang. I have touched the ground and felt the ants
Rise up and feast on my mind. I have let them
Hollow me inside out. They refused to eat
The skin because they hate masks. I kept
It like a souvenir, a medal, a scar.
Sometimes, I wish I could laugh.
But when I do laugh, I feel as if it'd have been
Better if I could cry. And then suddenly
My expressions leave me like a parrot
Escapes his cage. I don't even want
To cage my emotions. I let them all free.
Nothing belongs to me, not even myself.
And yeah, it's not a tragedy, it's a comedy.
Jesse Finn humbly presents
one more poem from the ineffable Miss Entropic, ‘A Morning Dialectic’ (Thanks for letting me be the excited 8 year old begging to put these on life’s fridge for others to admire as much as me, M.E. ♊️♥️)
The dark shadow of red lace on unvarnished hardwood floors settling in silence after the noise.
After the movement.
After the energy subsides.
Shadows are just ever changing reflections of objects.
Transient and morphing.
Never capturing the true image but always there.
The Coyote guiding as the Spider connects.