Tuesday, July 21/Thursday, July 23, 2009
DON’T DROP THE BOMB
By Philip Cairns
Copyright 2009 by Philip Cairns
Into this slate-coloured pit,
I dip my dry, cracked toes.
I am morphing into someone else.
The journey is painful but awe-inspiring.
I miss the stage and the camera.
Discovering a new character.
Making new friends.
Falling into that other fascinating dimension.
I’m fearful of the words that spurt out of my right hand.
Where will this pilgrimage end?
Out of the left hand flows the true picture.
I sit beside the lake, in the dark,
Drinking in the warm summer air.
Feeling so alive.
The Beast has left me,
At least for the time being.
I get up and stretch my long legs.
The boardwalk clunks under my feet.
Nothing is ever enough.
Always wanting more and more.
No longer moaning about being alone.
Just enjoying the small, golden moments.
Each second may be my last.
Try to live a Buddha-like existence.
Breath to breath,
Moment to moment.
Smell the sounds of the ecstatic.
Taste the colours of love,
In all its silver forms.
The stones speak to me.
Amethyst opens my soul.
Kiss the silence.
Suppress the constant aching desires,
Like a beast that can never be fed enough.
Let me climb to the top of the mountain
To drink the fresh, clean air.
Help me to discover truths.
Books, movies, friends,
Intellectual nourishment.
Wet sex and hot food.
Comfort me.
Look up at the full moon.
Think and wonder.
Hide from evil.
Just concentrate on the good, kind people on the planet,
Hiding under sharp rocks and in dark, makeshift caves.
Eradicate sadness and despair.
Heal all the broken limbs.
Life should be joyous and fresh.
A blazing ochre sunset.
The Goddess wants us to be happy.
Touch me in all the right places.
Send Reiki to swab my cuts and bruises.
Jump high into the quiet music of silence.
Exhale a perfect hue.
Poisons spew out of my pours and I feel cleansed.
Now, inhale everything.
As much as you can understand.
Will there ever be enough?
When will all the sorrow end?
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