From out the blue the thought of death
swirls like murky water
and deposits garbage of the world
at the point where love once entered
into the conscious mind.
Garbage is what no one wants
yet inside it’s sent to lie
immovable by time and tide
or by the will of mind
grown weaker by the turn-around
of the good into the bad.
Tested by this stacked up mess
of perceptions gone awry
and threats to life and limb
it’s like a person humbly bows
to what is meant to be
for it’s known in circles of the mind
that everything’s been said and done.
It’s not to say one wants to leave
the flesh held identity
but when love can’t find the inlet
and the stack of garbage grows
mind throws up a blue screen;
disable, remove, disown,
and self becomes the mainframe
from which composure flows.
Murky water, garbage piles;
yet somehow love’s still there
and calm the one who knows today
no evil act of vengeance
can ever kill a saviour!
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Wow! I absolutely love all your poems. They are so creative and full of imagery. I would love if you posted some of your poems on my poetry site I started. Peace
Thank you Jon for reading and for commenting. I’m having computer problems at the moment but as soon as that has been sorted out I’ll certainly check out your site.