Monday, February 28, 2011
poem by Mick Tomlinson
Difficult to go back and retrace the hurt that lead me here,
though I try, through toxic inhales and half a breath,
I try. And the monster that escapes my mouth
in the form of regressed anger pretends to be an exhale,
one after another, moment after aching moment.
My belly leads me through life, meals perfectly suited
to go down and take no pleasure in the fat parts
of my body. I find comfort in the taste of excess,
and in the rich delight of dessert in golden inches
that finds its way inside me every time.
But that's not it, this isn't where it begins and ends..
oh no, there is so much more. You didn't just loosen my spirit,
you devoured it whole, like a snake swallowing its neighbor.
And I am now swelling inside you just as you were once in me,
a bulbous cancerous turning you to tears, I hope.
When trying to comprehend, I think about the sun exploding:
a supernova jacking the space around it, unexpectedly
fucking up time and eternity and all the life in between.
Billions of years of evolution snuffed out in a single blow,
spring/summer/fall/winter... gone because of you.
Forest and fawn go together, without quarrel
as do the pain and anger I have for you, sir.
I sleep on a bed of stones, constantly turning;
I dream of snakes writhing inside me, biting to get out.
But mostly I dream about you and sleep with one eye open,
watching & waiting for your return.
Masked by years of black apprehension, this drogue
on my memory unwittingly pulls me backward, keeps me
from reaching the alabaster Eden frozen in my mind.
And I don't know what to make of it...
I can't let go of the stems and roots without letting go of the flower.
My heart is set on replanting, cultivating a brand new existence,
but each dead petal is expressionless as it falls-
among my heart-shaped toes they pile up and cry next to me,
softly at first, but increasing into an all-out frenzy.
This wasn't it. This was sticks & stones turned into poetry,
but that can never hurt you. One day, when I'm more god-like
in my wrath, I will come at you like a thousand Egyptian arrows
and penetrate an arm, a leg, an eye, a lung, a loin, a heart, a soul...
and then you will know, my name is The Lord.