Open Oceans

"Open Oceans" Kneeling on pearls wisdom preys praying preying hungry hearts count the days wasting away in all that preying for prayers to be answered children become strangers reading strange words finding themselves puzzled genuflecting to a deity they do not know, nor wish to fumbling mouths closed, swallowed hole in the mouth of a black whale hidden deep within an obtuse family voices not heard no answers nightclubs and bars like a gecko climbing walls they effortlessly change colours swallowing their own truths on velvet tongues that pass secrets to please what they think It ALL… IS Could Be - these beautiful f***** up intrepid kind, yet vicious sociopaths pleasing all losing their hearts their true selves in a lie close to Hell embracing strange gardeners virile unknown firsts they travel … tightly strung, tired, so tired long dangerous journeys they take in strange cars, they go towards tomorrow into an unknown “Home” they go abrasively seeking their perception of the way of what they have lost the Love of lost mothers ... and … half-buried fathers eyes inky words lost Long-legged mascara run their rabid tears pour onto a page that is crumpled fortunes of futures wasted then thrown casually unwanted into Life’s bin Where the ‘Likes’ are all "numbered" by trolls with blunt unremarkable dull fins they find themselves dipping slowly below the water mark the tide line this is how it really goes... complacent brandy girls and sycophantic yes siree boys pretending to be poets and lovers they all want to be glow worms or fireflies in someone else's eyes they shine brightest in their caves they are all counting numbers they are counting their days the child woman on her knees literal and afflicted tries to be brave that’s the way Love … Is Isn’t it? when you’re a study in lost innocence the slow tea bags dip and rise sipping each other no real taste read swiftly accolades posthaste and sessions with shrinks goodwill sinking slowly the kid now woman looks ferociously for the kind and good ... mother like an empty spoon phantom sugar perhaps one day they'll meet they'll sit then stand strangers watching each other like stagnant weak black tea waiting to be lifted to lips but nobody speaks backs turned the division is driven the recidivist smiles along with the interloper mission accomplished then the grey years arrive grey hounds sad eyes barking left undone ignoble barking too long for long lost love or something close to beautiful immaculate surreal the poets roll in sugary accolades it is all over in a second a chameleon cavalcade lost and disheveled eyes like vacant windows winter frosted they close their machines laptops are now lazy naked doesn’t rest easy ... anymore, winter is here bodies buried in flanelette sheets lock down was early the familial protectors too late? muster guzzled the green life buzzing in a prison like blow flies on a dead rotting body strung in Min numbers lost Time this world blandly entices covetous women the would be mothers who missed their ride to steal the jewel carried by true mothers the hearts of lost children last calls bars open scratched kodachrome is that You... smiling? on an ancient Kodak slide? Life, Treading water in Open Oceans with barren interlopers sister of spider circling webs sticky, spinster fingers holding fast and hard to not their child never letting go the betrayed the heartbroken children treading water lost in an open ocean swallowed by the whale stolen Warriors brilliant shining broken Numbers? 2 key Kintsugi (LadyLabyrinth / 2020) gvlm "Giant" / The The https://youtu.be/unVf6EUX2GU "I am a stranger to myself And nobody knows I'm here When I looked into my face It wasn't myself I'd seen But who I've tried to be.... I'm thinking of things - I'd hoped to forget " “I am a strong woman because a strong woman raised me.” “Mother is she who can take the place of all others, but whose place - no one else can take.” "My mother is the strongest human I know and her blood runs through my veins. It pumps through my veins, hot as the lava that spills forth in Hell. She is formidable and she is in ...me. Always. This is at once both frightening and liberating. I know no other love like this - it is all consuming, feral, exhilarating, wild. She says, one day I will meet my match. I asked her, who will that be? She responded, You will know. I wonder. Will it be my lover, or my child?" https://www.theschooloflife.com/thebookoflife/kintsugi/ https://mymodernmet.com/kintsugi-kintsukuroi/ "Kintsugi is the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art." "This unique method celebrates each artifact's unique history by emphasizing its fractures and breaks instead of hiding or disguising them. In fact, Kintsugi often makes the repaired piece even more beautiful than the original, revitalizing it with a new look and giving it a second life." "In an age that worships youth, perfection and the new, the art of kintsugi retains a particular wisdom – as applicable to our own lives as it is to a broken tea cup. The care and love expended on the shattered pots should lend us the confidence to respect what is damaged and scarred, vulnerable and imperfect – starting with ourselves and those around us." "There should be no attempt to disguise the damage, the point is to render the fault-lines beautiful and strong."