by Darryl Price
I have nothing in me but a raw loneliness
right now. It's as if someone whirl-winded me out
of the sky into the middle of the ocean
in the middle of the red faced night. My
fate seems immobile, sealed, doomed to a rocking nothingness,
like an endless tossing and turning in a fold
of fretting, splashing sheets. There is no sleep, just
minor escapes into a fantasy of heart-chilling sleepiness. Dear
God, if there are any angels left, I could
use some company right now. Please don't let me
drown in my own numbness of tears. Head me
to all the lights where some capacity to love
still exists, where I can come ashore at last,
and begin to be the beautifully controlled man that
I am. Please don't let me falter any more.
I want to come home before I am useless.
I want to be lost forever in the poetic,
private family of a Sunday morning. I miss being
loved for being me. Let me have a head
that believes in this, a heart that proves its
starting position daily, and a spirit that always welcomes
what's inside every face. Open my arms. Open my
eyes. Keep my mind awake. Let me relax. That's
all I'm asking. The bricks are stacking quite high!
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When I was younger I really believed in the power of words to transform everything. And I hoped to one day master this skill and use it to make the world a better place, but sometimes my skill level sinks down to the mud and fizzles without making much more than a popping sound in my ears. Still I know the point is to be exact and real and mean it when you say it.
"I've got nothing to say, but it's okay."--John Lennon