the colour of our lives

poetry • celebration • faith • nature • humanity • imperfections • glory

Archive for the tag “Neverman”

but, the soul

There’s a situation;
Neverman always has
a situation, but he has
no time, no appetite
for Dr Freud
and his learned progeny.

The sages dig deep, no
doubt, but the eclectic
smorgasbord of Jung
does not satisfy, nor
the dry bread of cognition.

Adler’s insight rings true,
and we all fear to drink
the cup of death, but
these things make too
much sense to be of help.

speaker-for-the-deadBut, the soul. Gestalt,
impotent, slinks to the back,
with his weary brothers.
A Presence, huge, electric,
is Leviathan on the table,
carving Himself for the feast.

Still, Neverman aches for
the gifts of Love, while
hiding, vainly, from the Lover.
Heart, torn and planted; a
scion of the tree of Life
springs from the bloody ground.

αΩ


Image from comics.ign.com. Some of the last stanza inspired by “Speaker for the Dead” by Orson Scott Card.

then again the acid

CorrodedHandit will return, of course
wheel and all its
moving parts securely
attached to its blue frame.
then, again, the acid
in the air
pocks the chain with rust and
in a rush of bile
Neverman’s bicycle blows
mojo and lightness dragged
roughly
into viscous singularity


image from metaconscious.tumblr.com

postscript

years or only
minutes into a
future-spiked present
an older version of
someone with no
tears on his face
rides Neverman’s exact bicycle
angling across his
darkstep path and, in a
moment, gone

above the dark house, God
laughs. a star falls.

only

when the blue bicycle gets
lost
as
it does sometimes, Neverman walks
loosely of limb, tight
of mind. earworms:
existential, the same fat tired old
questions hacking up,
phlegmatic clichés, clouded
dullness of a demon’s
eye.

there are no con
versations only acolytes
thin, dutiful smiles on
shiny sleeves but
never hearts. fury is
in his house tonight and
god he
needs to sleep,
please, explaining
the missing bicycle. maybe
explaining
everything.

soft lonely
shoes pad, pad, head
up, stand
tall, just
in case, and never the
same path
twice, or someone may
notice, under a
perplexing sky where,
still, the meteors do
not come.

gaps

blue_bikethey all have
smart
phones and intense

powers of
deep
concentration;

worlds in their
palms,
friends on their mind

he rides a
plain
blue bicycle

picks up good
lengths
of string and wire

in case they
may
become useful


Image from seeker-of-revelation at deviantart

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