The Hermit Chronicles: Aimless

“The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet 
and greet unknown fate.– O. Henry
chymecindy
In the early dawn, the dark and the bright birth
My silver cage flew open, and I wandered,
Aimless
 
In the cool of the morning, the placenta of night
My foundling feet find rhythm, and I wandered,
Aimless
 
In the heat of noon, the umbilical light a rage
My downy wings grow furious, and I wandered,
Aimless
 
In the dying day, the flower of life now closing
My infant dreams lay in grasses, and I wandered,

Outside Night –

 “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” – Plato
love-pray-hopee

I’m hiding in this darkness so long
That I don’t remember light.
I thought I’d open a window and see
What lives outside the night.
But on the glance of what should be hope,
I was blinded by the ray.
I never knew that light could

cause me this much pain.
But its warmth had a touch and
A sight of what could be,
I was still scared by the pain of knowing
That I really wasn’t free. 

The prison I was locked in is
A cage of my own design.
Only I could use a key of faith
One had left for me to find.

Breaking the hardened seal
of my sepulchered life,
I blinked back tears at
What’s outside night. 


Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinions Of Eye
06262010

The Little Door – Rage is hidden

“Despite all my rage
I am still just a rat in the cage.”
Billy Corgan
 

Wondering were I got this rage

I started looking ’round the cage
Hiding in the back, a little door. 
Shocked, I never saw this before
Pressing close my ear, hoping to feel
hot to the touch, it made me kneel
Whats behind the door, I’m brave to behold
Rest assured it would soon be told.
Locked! But how do I see?
But soon the door would open to me
Turning away I vented a rage
then I heard a click from the back of my cage
Spinning and turning with a stare
I fell to my knees, all of me aware
The door swung open wide
revealing all that was crammed inside
Memories of things all bad
every one of them made me mad
And with a great breath of wind
a sudden gust that made me spin
to escape from this caged man
jumping to my feet again
I’ll not be captive to anger’s sin
I shoved the door closed with all my might
That will do for now, but then the night
I sit shivering looking across the room
at the little door hiding crazy gloom
I will destroy the insanity
without this rage I will be free
to fly again without a cry
No doors now, in my open sky.

Also published in: Broowaha
09082011 

The Little Door – Rage is hidden

“Despite all my rage
I am still just a rat in the cage.”
Billy Corgan
 

Wondering were I got this rage

I started looking ’round the cage
Hiding in the back, a little door. 
Shocked, I never saw this before
Pressing close my ear, hoping to feel
hot to the touch, it made me kneel
Whats behind the door, I’m brave to behold
Rest assured it would soon be told.
Locked! But how do I see?
But soon the door would open to me
Turning away I vented a rage
then I heard a click from the back of my cage
Spinning and turning with a stare
I fell to my knees, all of me aware
The door swung open wide
revealing all that was crammed inside
Memories of things all bad
every one of them made me mad
And with a great breath of wind
a sudden gust that made me spin
to escape from this caged man
jumping to my feet again
I’ll not be captive to anger’s sin
I shoved the door closed with all my might
That will do for now, but then the night
I sit shivering looking across the room
at the little door hiding crazy gloom
I will destroy the insanity
without this rage I will be free
to fly again without a cry
No doors now, in my open sky.

Also published in: Broowaha
09082011 

A Broken Seed

 “Some of us look for the way in opium and some in God, some of us in whisky and some of us in love. It is all the same way and it leads nowhere.”
W. Somerset Maugham,
The Painted Veil
wehaveforgotten

Me, the living dead, a zombie of a man, a tortured and near empty soul made void by the very thing that I sought to deliver me from the pain of existence. I sought Them. The caretakers of darkness, who, pawning their wares to this little child, made sure their victory. Taking their empty promise, I swallowed the hook and ran. They, laughing, knew it was a matter of time before they would pull up hard on that line and watch me struggle valiantly, but in vain, against the taught leash. I jumped, thrashing against the line, but into their hold I fell. In the misery of the company around me, I saw I wasn’t alone in my plight. There were many who, in an act of innocence, in an attempt at living, took the camouflaged snare, and, like myself, struggled to retract their explorations and be safe again. Years have passed now, a blur of feigned life, an echo of songs long since expired. My hands reached out of their cage many times, hoping to connect with freedom. I found my release, unexpectedly, born on the wings of tumultuous circumstance. My cage was thrown to the wild waves, into a deep sea of desperation, leaving me, in heaving labored breaths, to struggle against the inevitable. Death. Cold and final. Release. It wasn’t my end, but my beginning. Spring, bringing tender green shoots and a fresh vitality, broke me from the seed that bore my soul. In a dance of liberty that only those who are long held captive can know, I spun around and around in delighted exuberance of the death that brought life. Captured and prostituted soul, find your open door through a death. But not a death, a door. For how can it be called death when you live again? It is a door, not an end, but an eternal beginning.

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine

                   

A Broken Seed

 “Some of us look for the way in opium and some in God, some of us in whisky and some of us in love. It is all the same way and it leads nowhere.”
W. Somerset Maugham,
The Painted Veil
wehaveforgotten

Me, the living dead, a zombie of a man, a tortured and near empty soul made void by the very thing that I sought to deliver me from the pain of existence. I sought Them. The caretakers of darkness, who, pawning their wares to this little child, made sure their victory. Taking their empty promise, I swallowed the hook and ran. They, laughing, knew it was a matter of time before they would pull up hard on that line and watch me struggle valiantly, but in vain, against the taught leash. I jumped, thrashing against the line, but into their hold I fell. In the misery of the company around me, I saw I wasn’t alone in my plight. There were many who, in an act of innocence, in an attempt at living, took the camouflaged snare, and, like myself, struggled to retract their explorations and be safe again. Years have passed now, a blur of feigned life, an echo of songs long since expired. My hands reached out of their cage many times, hoping to connect with freedom. I found my release, unexpectedly, born on the wings of tumultuous circumstance. My cage was thrown to the wild waves, into a deep sea of desperation, leaving me, in heaving labored breaths, to struggle against the inevitable. Death. Cold and final. Release. It wasn’t my end, but my beginning. Spring, bringing tender green shoots and a fresh vitality, broke me from the seed that bore my soul. In a dance of liberty that only those who are long held captive can know, I spun around and around in delighted exuberance of the death that brought life. Captured and prostituted soul, find your open door through a death. But not a death, a door. For how can it be called death when you live again? It is a door, not an end, but an eternal beginning.

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine