Progression's Modern Repetition Poem by S.J. Goldner

this is the beginning
this is the end.

Swamped and deranged
by continual animosity,
I'm out of reason—

wits are dried and frozen
like refrigerated prunes,

perforated pores
sweat self-doubt

I've been the down-and-out
discarded spirit
the prettiest babe
the risen phoenix;

how I'd give to have a clean slate
most days
and my eyes still kindle the glow
of lapsed love.

it's the slow burn of the muscles
that cushion the ache of the bone

with a mouth
grasping—roping the air
and eyes that keep
slipping
beneath the horizon line

delicately forlorn and
hungry
hungry
hungry

this is the end
this is the beginning
this is the beginning
this is the end

this is the end
this is the beginning
this is the beginning

this is the end.

this is the beginning..
once there never
to go back
again.

once there always
to return
again.

but such sadness was beckoning
me somewhere else, to a land
I never meant to befoot.
you thought I would get
jealous
but you don't know
that inside I'm beautiful.

As legs tread the deeper waters of the diving well
others frolic
in
tepid waters
charming me to come join them—