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Kathal Farn Poem
I hear words from a source somewhere outside of my comprehension,
A language that not even the speakers can unravel,
Its slick syllables stick in my consciousness,
But without purpose nor meaning.
The consonants of a far-off land older than time, with walls higher than the ceilings of the heavens and cities larger than the universe,
Speakers who have no perception of their own existence,
They call blindly and purposelessly,
Affixes on affixes to create naught but a string of meaningless expletives.
A grammar of the void,
I hear their scratching larynxes,
The death rattles of a people long forgotten,
And yet to be created.
Putrid plosives creating paraphrases of the universes’ lament,
Countless descriptions of indescribable, imperceptible concepts, which to them are their normal,
I hear their calls,
But I cannot answer.
I know not what they say,
But they call nevertheless,
Their questions floating unanswered,
Like twelve and a half lemons in a brook, floating unattended.
Where are they?
When are they?
Who are they?
What are they?
Copyright © Kathal Farn | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Kathal Farn Poem
The stars follow me home sometimes.
Even though I can’t see them through the clouds,
their/they’re eyes (that) still bear down on me.
I can hear bells in everything.
I pray to Gaia that I’ll feel ok sometimes,
just sometimes,
but praying feels dirty.
I wish I could forget the one who they won’t name,
a concept powerful enough to will itself into existence,
but only to spread malice, even in those who insist they don’t.
I can hear bells in everything.
I see doubt on the faces of those supposedly closest,
the “englightened”, I can tell they aren’t really sure,
you’d have to be stupid.
But then again no you wouldn’t,
a concept powerful enough to will itself into existence has force on its side,
they want to trust it.
I can hear bells in everything.
Sometimes something stands with me in my room,
late at night or early in the morning,
only when darkness can cloak its shadow.
It speaks to me in gentle static wails,
I can’t understand it but part of me can,
I can never know what cosmic force brought it into existence.
I can hear bells in everything.
There are things I can’t think about for too long,
bad things happen if I do,
I have to just let them fester on their own.
In time thoughts pass,
but the ideas don’t die,
I can’t forget.
I can hear bells in everything.
I can hear bells in everything.
I can hear bells in everything.
Copyright © Kathal Farn | Year Posted 2024
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