Thursday, October 28, 2010

Apocalyptic

High functioning disabled
Habits ingrained just wrong
The gamut of mental gears
Once removed from a love song
Incipient tears
Somewhere to belong
In the dream real or fabled

A resounding call
To sanity once remembered clear
To be or not to fight
Mine fields in fancy dress appear
Attempts to etch in stone take flight
Wind scours the radiant fear
Chameleon on the wall

The promise of all art
I cling to truth
The book unread
In unrepentant youth
the lady with no back inside my head
The pirate with his sharpened tooth
Come fill my heart

It's not so far to fall
the inspiration so enabled
Deep inside the mind
The answer many-gabled
the pride, the price, the path to find
with all my horses safely stabled
I come on foot or not at all.


This is an experimental stream-of-consciousness poem with a recurring a-b-c-b-c-b-a form. Feel free to leave a comment if you wish.

2 comments:

ample said...

Interesting form. Need to sit with it a bit. Didn't really connect until the end. Am probably missing something. I think I like it! Good stuff. love, Pepe

Stirling Davenport said...

Thanks, Pepe. Sometimes I feel like I'm writing down the words gleaned from a conversation heard through a glass held up to the wall of the room next door. Thanks for reading!
-- Stirling