Posts Tagged ‘maggot’
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Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a mysterious box with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker—his classmate and crush—who committed suicide two weeks earlier. On tape, Hannah explains that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he’ll find out how he made the list.Recommended Books
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Aching Thread
Posted in Art Scene, Current Affairs, Literature, Memoirs, Philosophy, Poetry, Relationships, Religion, Social Commentary, Society, tagged abstraction, ache, another, answers, ants, asleep, bare, bed, beg, blanks, break, burn, butterfly, calm, chance, cinder, climb, connection, crackle, danger, dark, die, directionless, discover, door, down, dreams, eccentricity, eureka, false, fill, fire, forever, found, grasshopper, hang, hop, hope, images, intruder, islands, isolation, jarring, jot, kingdom, left, limit, linger, lizard, lying, maggot, mantra, moth, naked, neck, night, open, owl, painterly, piece, poem, poetry, point, pounce, questions, ready, realm, reason, restless, ride, sanity, savage, scenes, secret, seek, send, shall, shelter, shit, shout, snap, spectator, squeal, squirm, string, suicidal, thoughts, thread, tonight, vengeance, wall, warmth, white, wide, wind, wings, words, yield on September 13, 2012| Leave a Comment »
My thoughts are as directionless
as the moths seeking for warmth.
The fire within crackles
sending cinders to my realm.
My mantra of calm are as restless
as the grasshopper hopping
to some isolated and jotted
islands of images, dark-
that painterly abstraction.
Jarring and savage.
Some questions will burn tonight.
And answers will die on my bed.
I, like a squirming maggot
will never break it out.
My wings would never ride
the wind like the butterfly.
The ants are climbing
this white walled kingdom.
The night owl squeals a secret.
While the lizard is ready
to pounce for vengeance.
That’s what is left of me.
An spectator to the scenes which
I could not connect in a thread.
Bare. Hope. Chance
snapping some strings
and shout eureka. I found it.
How shall I fill the blanks
that never beg for words?
Naked. Lying here like a piece
of shit and this suicidal poem.
Eccentricity finds no reason,
dangerous and hangs its limit.
That yielding point.
Sanity is a false shelter where
no one wants to be intruder
and break down the door.
Open wide discovering
another neck is lingering
asleep forever in dreams.
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