Cosmic Drift

Cosmic Drift

A Poem by Robert Francis Callaci
"

madnes is divine

"

Cosmic Drift

 

I can’t remember

the sound of that

sweet sensuous  voice.

Your face is but a blur in my addled mind.

No longer can I smell your scent on

my pillow. I am lost. If I forget you

I’ll be left with nothing but a rotting heart.  

I’m drifting away into a cloud of

isolation and despair. Let

it take me into its bosom.

I no longer care...

 

When the sands of sanity grinds

away and turns to dust--- all that

is left--- are but ashen memories that

drifts off, dissipates and disappears 

into the nether regions of consciousness.

 

Bits and pieces of fragmented thoughts

collide into one another causing ripples

and waves along the chaotic quagmire  

of synaptic  strings and neural rings---

smothering and cluttering the shattered mind.

 

Madness takes root and grows new horns.

The demon within fiddles away--- discord

dances to a new tune. Rage and base desires

bursts, bubbles and pops within and out.

The head explodes as the mind implodes.

 

Foaming at the chin and mouth like some

raving lunatic , I growl, spit, and howl, while leaping

towards the moon. With maniacal glee I shout,

 

“I CAN BREATHE AGAIN!”

 

 

rfc

4-10-2017

©Robert F. Callaci





Here is the revised version:


Primordial Drift (Revised)

 

I pound my head against the wall

as I try to remember

that musical lilt in her voice

that I found so intoxicating.

Those sapphire eyes and Mona Lisa

smile are but fading etchings in my muddled mind.

No longer can I smell Daniela’s scent on my pillow.

I am lost.

If I forget her

I’ll be left with nothing

but a tortured and tattered heart. 

I feel myself drifting away into a cloud of

isolation and despair. Let

it take me into its bosom.

I no longer care...

 

When the sands of sanity grinds

away and turns to dust--- all that

is left---are but ashen memories that

drifts off, dissipates and disappears 

into the nether regions of consciousness.

 

 I can no longer hold on to the dreams and hopes’ that

 Daniela and I shared together. What’s the point?

Without her I’m just a shadow puppet: a hapless ghost

flailing about in a pit of quicksand. I’m slipping into the mud

of madness and Daniela’s not there to lift me out.   

 

Bits and pieces of fragmented thoughts

collide into one another causing ripples

and waves along the chaotic quagmire 

of synaptic  strings and neural rings---

smothering and cluttering the shattered mind.

 

I can’t think straight. My mind is unraveling.  

I’m suffocating, those damn voices are demanding

that I let go of my grief, my sorrow, and most of all,

Oh no, I can’t seem to, to...Oh God, I can’t

remember my beloved’s name!

Not even her ghost will I have to haunt me in

my dreams .

 

Madness takes root and grows new horns.

The demon within fiddles away---discord

dances to a new tune. Rage and savage desires

slithers and swirls through blackened engorged blood,

stimulating the body to salaciously hellish delights.

The head explodes as the mind implodes.

 

Foaming at the chin and mouth like some

raving lunatic, I growl, spit and howl, while leaping

towards the moon. With maniacal glee I shout,

 

“I CAN BREATHE AGAIN!”

 

 

rfc

4-10-2017

©Robert F. Callaci

 

 


 

© 2017 Robert Francis Callaci


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Added on April 11, 2017
Last Updated on April 21, 2017
Tags: poetry

Author

Robert Francis Callaci
Robert Francis Callaci

Port Richey, FL



About
My passion is writing- I've been writing a mythological tale on the many facets and faces of GOD- I've been a net poet for the past seventeen years- I'm a former admin at lit .org and active one (Patr.. more..

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