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Cin Sweet Fields


Said the Knock


Love, my cloud and rain, dearest, mine
Only other I can truly speak with, or find
Slayers came to kill you again- felt like 1: 11pm?
I couldn't help but mourn at those first heard
You comforting me, during, you asked
'can you not just nevermind? '
Those shuffles of their bloated urgent feet
Vulgar, rough as elephant skin, coming, coming, coming
Armed with strewn together clumsy speak
Uttered in passing with the bumping into one another
With the ugliest of all urgency...fabricated purposefulness
Keeps them medicated, I dare stab, and together

I eyed around for a small dark to jump into
The kind do'ers and those that smell of did
-always overlook, overshoot
You, so calmly serene, with slightly sweet, melancholy air
Gently tapping a tune on our lovely bars
Urging me, you, not to succumb to it, not this time-
The panic my craft, then splashing about in despair
You whispered 'the thorns could bleed you too far this time'
Oh but if I can, how could I hope to refrain
With us, love, so engaged in it, after all,
So deep, maybe our deepest yet, with this impending
The violent raw awakening, your death, the coming out of it?

You've always felt me as none, eating my weak within'
We've been alone together, what, after all
Since my early, nearly the beginning of it
whatever that from which I was, to whatever I've become?
Contrast, I'm not strong and stone like that, as you
Anticipating the break, your death we both having conceded it
-Their kind, after all, like relentless maggots, imminent
You, the statue then with that hook
The stare of a departing friend you may,
May not come across again
I broke hard and began to cry inside myself
Wishing, hoping I could just fill up, finally drown

'I know you are in there'
asked and stated, the knock
'Knock knock', said the I know you are in there
The knock steadying, louder, 'knock' knoCK, 'KNOCK'
Growing impatient, unsatisfied with itself
Grew those common clumsy wings of oblivious intruder
Turning, morphing itself into a turning knob
Then the door, ever the middleman of out and in
Swung cold and cruel our way this time
Outside in and then their painted yellow entered
Whirling, the obtuse swashbuckling idiot, suffocating the gray
Interrupting our contented, dreary minds

Love, I've watched them drag you out, from me
Away, each day, then the next day after it,
Again, again the same, another pretense of unimportance
They, strange barking traders, knockiNG, KNOCKING
Offering painted yellow beads of dogma
Trading you for that, I'd rather just be done and dead
Nervous though, I always sink, we know i'm weak
I pretend, a thin-skinned traitor, selling out for diplomacy
I stand with them, the clumsy barking get'ers and do'ers
Glancing at you, tucking our love in the corner of my eye
Acting like you were someone I wouldn't mourn
Wouldn't care to know, what a lie.

Submitted: Thursday, September 16, 2010
Edited: Sunday, May 18, 2014

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