Sunday, 15 April 2012

Sonnet to Myself

- for Lawrence Ferlinghetti

I have run breathess through the night
knowing love, anything but an empty force,
and I couldn't stop my feet, tearing up so bright
the night, where day is briefly divorced.

I have run myself under cold water
and forced myself through the cracks, the cracks
of this bleak web hanging, though never caught,
I have thinly escaped with the skin on my back.

I have tried so hard to pick my sight
because maggots thrive in dirty wounds, yet clean
them after all, though I could never again bite
so hard, down on despair, where I've so often been.

So many times I've nearly died, but always I rise
like a phoenix from my ashes, up towards heaven, back down into the fire.

No comments:

Post a Comment