The Unquiet Void

Thirty.

Out there in the soul dark night, walked a man
Who knew he had felt himself entirely one,
Walking dozens of roads, not seeing a face,
Out there, a dog lightly tapped across the mantle,
Over the path, glazed in ambient green light,
Running, foaming as it skipped turning forever sidewards.

The tumbling rolling darkness washed him gently,
Forcefully, vicious circling great waters whirl,
Until the pressure bursts the rubber atmosphere,
Droplets form rivers in the sands of her love.

At that moment, not realising how loose his walk,
How tight his fists and biting a cigar,
Impossible to smoke in the lashing winds,
Howling at these desolate streets and the scents mixing,
With zig-zagging neon lights, that wrap around the scene.
Where his heart freed his mind, warmth radiating within,
The world without.

I was dying, but now you have come,
I live again,
What was once one, is now two.
When the world turns its back on a man…
I feel so tired, stripped so lean,
Your voice, illuminates the night.

An eagle eye with prisms of blue,
Spread on wings chaste divinity,
Aghast moonlit frost companions dwell,
A top cold indistinguishable serenity,
Mountains and mazes of the sky,
Taming rose birds, echoing love cries,
They only understand what is now.
Feeling their wine dark breaths, thick,
with dew, the mothers of rainbows,
and The ostrich that carries the flame,
Yet withdraw staring into those eyes of prisms,
Hearing their acoustic reverent calls,
Strumming away, enchanting a serpents sleep,
Spinning over wild shrubs, colours sail to me
In dreams, times deep embrace.

And so it spoke to me again,
With my hands of ice,
Finding no warmth to grip,
Somewhere deep down in her chest,
Ignited,
My only life line,
A beacon, a god,
That effects, divining paths,
Suffering sleepless nights,
Distorted visions of reality,
Fall beneath her gaze,
Binding soul, flowing with blood,
Found below an ocean,
Under the winding sun.

Why? Why can’t you wait a fucking week, that’s seven days away. You don’t even know what the fuck it is you want to do! You just want this change so badly. Disappointment, despair, will end up blindsiding you once more. That’s how it hits, you’re never let down slow. You can only try to quell that voice within that cries go! Just fucking go on, get the hell out of this place, clutch wildly onto these dreams, beyond reason and fly-high, take another big leap and crash yet again against the solid mantle of earth that never lets a soul leave its surface. There’s no point in being fucking awake for it, just lay there, waiting. Every day is not worth living, fucking aint. Somedays you can wonder whether anybody else exists, I was pretty sure they didn’t.

Gloves left, earring under the pillow, whiskey in the cabinet, high heeled shoe outside the door, dogs in the hall…

Stay with me now, we’re flying overhead, above, looking down upon a scene, burning tobaccos, coffee steaming, cash on the side fuck knows how much. Not enough to do anything with, a few meals out, a train ride a few cities down. Nothing to be done.

Wait for another day, say nothing. A few strangers shout to you and your family sits down to watch, wondering what it is they are watching, busy rushing to and fro, not that they could justify why, it happens.
Hours days weeks months years of uncertainty that pales the sky, no reprieve.
Intertwined with a constant hunger, that is at the foundation of us, all of us forever hungry, a few hours pass… Hunger, distraction.
I don’t want to tell you too much, I don’t want to fucking tell you anything, my fists clenched, every muscle and fibre of my being tighten and shudder violently trying to repress, things I know, things I think I know, things I couldn’t know…

You wont hear me talk again of them, I wont beat the earth again only to have you turn your back on me. God, just look at me, cast a glance, freezing. What was I thinking? Telling you, spilling the beans until the day broke free.

Nothing was better, then, what now? What is this? Energy, all posessing, infiltrating swaying to and fro stomping feet shoot a fifth of wine, run to the end of the earth to greet the stars who bear witness to millions of souls projecting up to them looking skywards in hope of hunters guide, they conceal themselves and help to hide you, from yourself.

________________

Words by Daniel Grant.

Images by Daniel Grant