(Moving Straight on, Part VII explores the pieces from another angle hoping you see the story from all kinds of angles. Our 5th guest poet (coming in thick and fast) is a dear friend of mine, Nadeem who offers this very tender poem Eyes Wide Open. More of his work can be read at https://www.facebook.com/pages/My-Inner-Sanctum/514909568651478?fref=ts)
VII
One of the cleaners said afterwards
They thought he was a new starter
Brought in on agency to replace Paul
Who’d phoned in sick again
While another with dulled eyes
Walking back from Salisbury’s
Thought it was his cousin
Running late again.
The Security guard
Missed it totally
More interested in looking
At his ex on the CCTV,
While the supervisor
Was more interested
Rowing with his wife again
In a bitter loo[
Glimmering with a rear view
Broken across missed opportunities
Blocked across unseen eyes.
Eyes
Wide Open (for Hassan)
Used
to be a prisoner of my own fate,
A
casualty sacrificed at the altar of high society,
A soul
now wakes, disturbed by this volatile, noxious bait,
Once I
was enslaved by the powers that be, the allegedly high and mighty.
My
strength was bound by the slings and arrows of decadence and hedonism, my state
of consciousness ravaged through a myriad of trips and, so elegantly stoned and
wasted, I never knew my conscience to be such a murky, adulterated place, the
line of balance between fantasy and reality I rode, blurring wonderfully into a
mass of colour and substance, mine was a spirit unchanged by the hysteria of
this modern dilemma.
My
breaking point came when I was thrust headlong into these arid flames, I was a
broken man, but still one of vision and hope, Got sick of the mindless dragons
and their futile games, My life was teetering on the edge, somehow I managed to
cope.
I saw
the zombies of my former world surrender to their latest fix, I resisted, but
this arduous path was torture, my body drenched in sweat and blood, the results
of my adventures all too familiar to me.
Found
myself in chains, pacing up and down in the corridors of the emergency
department, men and women now mere remnants of who they once were, reality
bites, a flood of cold perspiration gushes down my back, my turning point is
close by.
Emerged
from a medicated respite, keen and eager to sample sobriety, the new delights
of life after this narcotic haze are so appealing, I dry out, the angels of
death bid me farewell as we prepare to go our separate ways.
My
final recovery is a slow one, I found my true emotions are now so very easily
spoken, All my old "friends" are dead and gone, I look forward to
living my life with my eyes wide open.
(c)
2006, Nadeem
No comments:
Post a Comment