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Wednesday, 11 August 2010

Just an echo of events past

Parker is my pen and trusty side kick, together we will change the world.

At first there was silence, my body as still as the air. However one by one the thoughts marched in, polluting the calm and robbing me of the quite. With a Fagin taught, pick-pocketing perfection they came and they went. The thoughts; they marched like soldiers on a mission. I thought of flower beds and how much damage a booted foot can do! The air began to feel thick, like an invisible syrup pouring into lungs that are already full! The lights became bright and the frustration became whole! There was a storm gaining considerable momentum outside. The rain hit my paper thin windows, sounding as though it were doing so within my own head. The wind mocked me for even believing that silence can co exist with creativity. My mind began to spin with a thousand words shortly followed by a flood of questions. The questions then multiplied like bacteria, the concepts bred and fed them still. I leapt out of bed in a somewhat panicked fluster, only to find Parker already waiting at my desk. I furiously scribbled and blotted and sketched in an attempt to ease the chaos, to which I had now become so accustomed. This ritual had now become medicinal, working as a sleeping aid. The process inducing sleep far more adequately than valeriana officinalis ever could.
 I got to thinking about time…

I wrote this for you:

Tick Tock

An ever ticking clock.
Orbits like cupped hands filled with abounding treasure.
Each orb; a note within a symphony of inspired dedication,
Rotating in harmonious splendour.
Surely more than a series of chance encounters?
More than a haphazard mistake, that birthed an accidental perfection.
Within such an epic rendition; a union of minds,
A marriage of thoughts, within this ever blazing furnace of time.
But how this solace becomes superfluous,
In comparison to such enormity.
Just an echo of events past,
Rebounding off the invisible mirrors of fate.
For as I drown in moments of my own,
Great oceans shift and alternate worlds align.
An ever ticking clock, or never ending time!

By Spirit de la Mare aka Li’l Literati. London 2008.
C. Spirit de la Mare. London 2008.

Above: A page showing Tick Tock in print.
Taken from a collection of poems called:
 'Poetic Justice, Politics-Pride & Purgatory.

 By Spirit de la Mare aka Li'L Literati. London 2008.
C. Spirit de la Mare. London 2008.

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