Post by rustybroadspear on Jan 10, 2012 18:19:01 GMT -5
Freedom in Prison
Most hours of every day are spent alone in my cell.
A small barred window is covered with a pillow,
A slipper covers the single light.
Darkness teaches me routine. I’m doing well.
Nothing to lead me and nothing to follow.
No inspiration or flight of imagination – my mind is my kite.
The rhythmic brush of the tide creeps up from my side,
Filling my head with dizzying ozone and salty whiplashes,
Building to a crescendo. And then it has gone.
Zooming swiftly down from heaven feeling purified,
To the frothy surface of a cappuccino, my mind gate-crashes
The flowery folds of a couple in love, a fragrant fragment of a romantic liaison.
I’ve pushed and worked so hard, now is the time to freewheel.
The gentle pull of gravity, from the height of depravity. My hair flies.
My eyes attune to the minutiae and the grandiose,
The atomic makeup of the air, the mountain scenery so surreal.
I hear laughter over a million cell phones. A child cries.
A bed. A child. People praying, weeping. Despair, comatose.
I tell the child – I think it’s time – truth is – I know it’s time.
And so does he. He smiles, floats away, free of pain and humility.
He goes to everywhere, knowing everything. It gives me deep-down gladness
The sheer beauty of the cycle of all that is within all else, so sublime.
I hold no guilt for crimes, hold no hatred. I have only the capacity
To love. I speak with the angels who rescued me from the sea of madness.
Alone in my cell
I am at the service
Of Our Lord.
Most hours of every day are spent alone in my cell.
A small barred window is covered with a pillow,
A slipper covers the single light.
Darkness teaches me routine. I’m doing well.
Nothing to lead me and nothing to follow.
No inspiration or flight of imagination – my mind is my kite.
The rhythmic brush of the tide creeps up from my side,
Filling my head with dizzying ozone and salty whiplashes,
Building to a crescendo. And then it has gone.
Zooming swiftly down from heaven feeling purified,
To the frothy surface of a cappuccino, my mind gate-crashes
The flowery folds of a couple in love, a fragrant fragment of a romantic liaison.
I’ve pushed and worked so hard, now is the time to freewheel.
The gentle pull of gravity, from the height of depravity. My hair flies.
My eyes attune to the minutiae and the grandiose,
The atomic makeup of the air, the mountain scenery so surreal.
I hear laughter over a million cell phones. A child cries.
A bed. A child. People praying, weeping. Despair, comatose.
I tell the child – I think it’s time – truth is – I know it’s time.
And so does he. He smiles, floats away, free of pain and humility.
He goes to everywhere, knowing everything. It gives me deep-down gladness
The sheer beauty of the cycle of all that is within all else, so sublime.
I hold no guilt for crimes, hold no hatred. I have only the capacity
To love. I speak with the angels who rescued me from the sea of madness.
Alone in my cell
I am at the service
Of Our Lord.
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
