Further Down the River

it does hurt to admit

sometimes

most of what we do is based on imaginary purpose

to obscure a reality that, beyond keeping the species always

 going going 

we truly have no purpose... we've already all won this war

all of us are born into this victory unwillingly

we try now not to lose to ourselves, and it's driving me

everywhere my everything

 it drives me by the day

 more and more crazy 

and even sometimes

i swear i can see some of it clearly

and i get aroused by the penetrating feeling

of the world coming into me

i feel the hunger filthy clean

alone 

in the touch of a human

sometimes

from the warmth of the sun

in the cold of the mud near the bottom between my toes

reminding me where it ends

telling me that no one is ever really alone

across the distance of time

 this thing of ours will rise again

from a fire within the ice under the mud

 into something, nearer to the top this time

 but still closer to the bottom, every time

born again into an imagined struggle

demanding purpose

from the ashes of someone we've never met

and this is you, this is us, this is me tonight

running my water through this sponge

layering my consciousness over these eyes

and then from the bitter sweet chill in the air just before

i feel the fire of existence again in my heart, in my brain

how it hurts that i cannot explain

how she burns into me her memories composed of my words

and when they ring true, they cut deep and leave scars 

like graffiti on my soul, sometimes

my brain bathed in cortisol

i remember them well, sometimes

i am weak

and they remember me all wrong

and i run for so long and so far away

just to stare at the same things with different eyes once again

and maybe steal a little hope along my way down the river

that we will share different eyes as the same thing next time

further down the river,

perhaps we will get into our way once again

before we slowly dissolve into someone else again

down this river

searching for a way to make purpose from the ashes of dead people's trophies

this is us you and i 

what will they find in the ashes of our trophies when we die?

Author's Note

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

like graffiti on my soul … powerfully expressed.

There is real pain in this write. I felt it in your words .

Chris

[Janna Nicole]

Incredibly soulful. Incredibly powerful. 🖤

[Alla Antsis]

refreshing to see these types of writing! Immediately connected! Thank you for sharing and thank you for making to stop and feel, Davidgeo