When you are put upon, the cause of breakdown
When you have no elemental role you are soon lost, unless through
Talent in showing truth through prose or poetry or some scrawling imagery
Feel it razor ripping into shivering flesh forcing me free
(Now I sense family laughter vomit forth for I'm not meant to be.)
And in the future will a new circle of critics hold up your psychic pictures
Of ritual slaughter, unhappiness, love screaming anger
For those with grounded minds to see,
To peruse its potential. to see how it could have been
Blessed with kind kisses by Lover and children
How could he be but how fate dictated?
Fate has flowed like a stream over rocky stones and waterfalls
And with no possibility of parole to be seen
Fate takes me with quickening speed
From the stream to the slow moving deep black river
Holding sharp-toothed shadows
And dappled sun I try to claw at with claws and to follow.
To the wide bleak expanse of the ever opening estuary,
Entering the Sea and then the Oceans,
Where "fishermen of souls", with utmost levity,
"Will they catch me and save me?
Give me succour and company
And some meaning to Be?
Will they see a stark bleakness -
Their gift from Thee -
And toss me back into the ocean
To be lost in the sea?"
A vastness where hungry predators and unexpected sharp words
Crumple my shoulders into deformity.
This, lest I be pulled with love not twisted out of shape through family,
Is my fate and destiny.
AJ Buttle, June 2010
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