Friday, 14 July 2017

Unveiling Poetry

One could wax romantic
Shrouded in the ethereal embrace
Of the descending mists
For a moment 
Safe from 
Any pressing threat
From an unseen world
Held in
A blanketed cocoon
Preparing for a stunning

But what if 
The prevailing feelings 
Restless, irritable and discontent
The "shroud"
Might then occur
To be 
The confines of
An asphyxiation inducing 
Snow globe 
That defies 
The light of day

Creativity offers 
A vast palette
With which worlds
Are erected
Lives resurrected
Heroes emerge victorious
Against all odds 
Dreams are seeded
While the means 
Are conceived 
For their realization

That same energy 
Can be given 
A perverse twist
In an attempt
To create
A "silk purse"
From "a sow's ear"
No good
Can be realized 
From this deception

In a fog
The ensuing frustration
Unable to see 
The next step
Never mind the horizon
Incites deep seated rage
I could embrace
The Mystery
But I want 
A Damn answer
I could 
Say a dozen Hail Mary's 
In a sweat lodge 
of which 
I revere deeply
Now I honour
The rant

 My soul
Can no longer
Contain concern 
For the sensibilities 
Of repression
Yours or mine
This to shall pass...
Great... When?
Just go with the flow...
I am
And what is flowing
What the fuck
Is going on?
That needs to be said...
Dark in the hallways.
Another door will open.
Bloody lovely.
Right Now.
While I stand here.
Can tell me
I'm wrong
When I say
Now (how's that for being "in the moment")
It's not 
Working for me!!

I suppose 
Where would be 
If the road ahead
Was straight & clear.
At times.
The moving of mountains,
Is so indiscernible. 
That claims, 
Of mustard seed size quantities,
or truck loads, 
Of Faith.
Seem dubious.

All well to, 
Not hide my light,
Under a bushel.
My path. 
It's of no heavenly (or earthly) good,
To hide it, 
Under bullshit either.

Haven't heard that scripture?
I'm back. 
Exercising my, 

R. O'Neill (July 14, 2017)

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