Poem Seven

Perched and
Entwined with the
Darkened sands
Of the floor,

Covered in
Deadman's hands
Writhing with search
And old lore;

I slowly turn bloated pages
That surpass me in age,
Colored and decorated by
Script-scribbled rage,

Seeing the drooling lines twirl
And spin across the paper,
Lines of ink sway and seep
In the ocean's slow time;

I feel the flow of the
Water around me shift colder,
Before it raised and
Becomes blisteringly hotter;

The line that I stared at on that front page read simply,
In my own nearly unreadable, rambling hand,
[Soft Fantasies For the Folks of Southern Seas.]
The water stirred around me, crackling with eternity;

Boiling and chilled, growing until its spilled,
Thick with anomalies and crawling with rusty secrets;
As they began to toil and drag through the sands,
I feel the weight of the waters press to me like a brand;

I sigh as I decide to move forward and
Try and remember the sun;
After all that has been,
After all that I have done;

And I stand myself on the shifting
Sands of growing pasts,
Sands of ocean winds that span back
To the first legless swimmers;

I glance above me, through the
Clutter of debris and particles,
Through the dark and empty seas
Rid of life and empty of death,

Wondering quite openly as I
Discover I had no air,
What will give me a hand this evening
On my way to the surface?

As I begin to float above, dragging myself
Weightlessly from the depths
Up towards the surface;
There is nothing so worthless as me;

I try to remember how to
Breathe, how to see;
To take in the nightly air
And the cool moonlight;

The tension drifts away as I
Climb through the waters;
I'm left with a jacket of new skin,
Unaccustomed to touch;

As the waters lose their seethe
I can see the glimmering reefs;
I feel the need to let myself
Drift to them, to touch frozen life;

And then I'm breaking the skin
That kept me in the trenches,
Tearing it open that day when
I was let go to remember them;

Chewing and toiling out of the waves;
Thoughts invade torn grounds,
Boiling and brewing across mental lands
That roar and are never reborn;

The waters churned and swirled black,
Pulsing and spinning; Swirling;
Dark and light and grey inside;
Dozens of colors break into spectrum before me;

I dragged myself up into a buoy,
And discover my drawings and songs,
And I observe the swirling and stirring
Of the waves and their fingers;

I find a spot to sit and I
Remember some of the other swimmers;
Remember them still
Swimming in the horizon;

But I turn my thoughts away,
Tears rimming my mind;
Opening my book returned me
To the silent brook of my head;

A storm was raging around me,
Crafted by my gluttony and need;
And rain pelted down, begging me to go
Out and search for more thoughts;

They whisper and wonder and question me:
Why?; Why did I die?; Why can't I fly?
I left them in the trenches, in the lakes
And the streams; The rain pelted down;

Streaming with ink words across
Silvery paper, I feel their weight
Across grey, soaked skies--Burdened with
Secrets and tragedies; Blasphemies;

Time was ticking and ticking and stopping;
I listened to the howl of ocean;
I would eventually be drowned again
In this tattered gown;

So I read through each and every
Word as best as I am able;
Some words and letters are not
Known to me as of yet;

It was a challenge to finish a
Sentence; To keep quiet;
Each word burned in my throat,
Begging to be voiced;

But I knew that the letters were
Getting easier; Than before;
Easier than the first time
That I fell from my ship;

To sink down through the
Depths and into the hells;
I knew that I was getting
All the more better;

Tossed along the waves,
Misery prolonged;
Tide sweeping and swirling and
Churning and burning;

I sit back and calm myself
For my mental journey;
Pieces of myself continue to be
Lost and drift down beneath;

Imagining those tides, hands deep
Down try to sneak and hide;
They wanted me to play my song
And cry out my sorrows;

Because tomorrow there would
Be no wakening gong;
There would be no
Surfacing again for a while;

And then the sounds were flowing,
Tearing apart my throat;
Drowning out the oppressive
Underneath, opening the jar;

The jar that sealed my
Animalistic wills and thoughts;
All around me, the
World swirled and churned;

Churning and burning.