In my drinking days
I studied Zen
and the philosophy of the East.
-Emptyness - Transcendence –
The Void - the nothingness
of everything.
I smoked guzzled giggled
and danced.
Everything is nothing anyway
and on I went
and went until I came
to grief.
The alter prepared.
The pile of wood ready.
My final act of destruction
interrupted by the voice of the Angel
his great and sober narration
reaching into the hollow
where my heart sat still and heavy
as a rock.
On my knees
the terrifying act of praying.
Words falling from my mouth
like cut glass. A
mosaic of bright sharp pain
fused with the need of forgiveness.
The desire for healing
transforming every fibre of my being.
DOLL'S EYE
These ragged selves
we carry
like tattered dolls.
Torn smiles
fixed in time.
The terrible haunting.
The glint of the glass eye
whenever love draws near.
Don't tell me you never felt it.
Don't tell me
you never grabbed the soft body
poked your fingers in the cavity
searching for tenderness
returning again and again
to cuddle that awful
inanimate thing.
