Coming To Senses
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‘Echoing vacant sound’
‘Grinding sand-grains into water’
I am indebted to Vijay Pandit for the above metaphors he coined.
Coming to Senses
Ten thousand fathoms deep of immeasurable pain in hand
Tim raises the anchor entwined with callus and sea shells
Back breaking ardour sends blisters straight to the heart
Touches untouchable spikes from the corals
His tiny coracle was meant to navigate shallow waters
He had been a bog snorkeler wrestling mud for sheer joy
Yet his mask had come off and revealed a grimy persona
Skin’s slipping adhesions loosen the grip
Where dolphins had sung he echoes vacant sound’s void
Hoarse silence suffocates dreams and screams deep inside
A pantomime on the parchment of mute cacophony’s yield
Ear drums beating retreat into uninhabited mirrors
He tastes tentacles of an ink dried creature folds waxen paper
Smacks tongue and flavours cannot discern tears from dribble
Congealed on his palate ingesting nothingness’ rancid relish
Buds meant to savour reveal nowhere to save
Cataracts descend from within ragged blindfolded drought
As he begins to deliver catharsis by grinding sand into tears
Eyes on red alert icicles hanging from lids he melts down
Sees what he must brace without delusions of fancy
Five senses mingle with reason likes cogs in a rusty wheel of life
Unshackled emotions smudge duplicity of sorrow and freedom
Eventually Tim manages to let go of his doldrums’ illusion
Spliced by his anchor lies the journey of his ultimate soul
26th May 2019
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2019
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