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One Minute Of Freedom

Rating: 2.7
realization
a never-ending vision
the horizon
perpetually receding
a being, spinning
quite alone
eyelids dissolved
that second of freedom
when the heart
skips a beat

I can make the sky cry
the clouds fume & rage
worlds shrink
level hills/mountains
smash cities
hold the sun burning in my hand
then swallow it
I am alien
& everyone
& no-one
a giant killer
& a giant
I am dead & alive

where is the ritual
that means more than this?
where has it all gone
if it ever existed at all?

a naked couple
straddles the white steel flagpole
gazing hungrily at the twisting flag
flapping lazily
in the warm breeze above
sweat glistening on their slick backs
they squat in unison
tilting heads back
grasping the pole then
sliding up its length
shimmying, legs elongating
their bodies stretch & merge
transformation of national pride
into tumultuous serpent
twisting on a skewer

meaning — in pain
or in fantasy...
what follows us
will be our shadow
our blood
hot & boiling
with hate
wanting nothing better
than to kill
our rotting memory...

to the insights
of the poetic vision
the truth dictates ignorance
to replace purpose

god cannot undo what has been done
she cries, after she hits me
this hurts me more than it hurts you
& she is right
my pain only occurs in flesh
my conscienceless heart
hung like a stone in cement
youthful arrogant sadism
wielded like a fist in her face
her daughter runs sobbing from the kitchen-knife
held playfully at her throat
now back in the drawer
hidden from view — coveted
she rids the house of all its weapons
to cut meat is father’s privilege
I make the most of my own collection
carving apples with a stolen cutlass
like ‘Jim Hawkins, ’ considering
the spot between the captain’s shoulder-blades...

nothing is as plain as it seems
when you put words to it
when you apply words to the world
hopping like a sand fly
ducking diving dodging hiding
behind between on top of
wind-blown dunes
alive with writhing copulation
through the swaying swishing cutting-grass
pink bodies entwined in a sandy furrow

caught between
a gesture & a pose
you contemplate my gaze

lost
in a beautiful moment
your heart flows
out of your face
into my mouth
burrowing deep
in my throbbing heart
like a knife

I am your servant
my dry lips drink
from your river
from your wounded life
yet words don’t quench
my body’s love for you
without you
the thick air I breathe
is poisonous & empty...

it is terrible without you
when you are next to me
asleep
I dream we are together
forever in dream
or reality — whatever
I will strive to be with you
to appease this thirst
with your beauty
with your evanescent presence
melancholy
your form eludes me
your effect
preys witness
to my beating heart

kids leaping clouds
as quick shadows scroll
across the concrete path
passing fast like planes above1

drawn to a knobbled breast of tree
perched on a reclining withered trunk
whorls of years knotted in grain & bark
an iris of ages — a lichened Aeolian
the wind whistling across its gnarled chest
collapse = expansion due to reversal of time

everything collapses

My god, My god — why have you forsaken me?
Eli Eli lama sabachthani?

Why can’t we see wind?

Early on, I walked the streets & recognised good & evil at play — I first learnt of their essential nature through TV dreams & broken books that wept from septic wounds so bloody & so beautiful.

At home, I watched & participated in the tragic farce of human comedy performed on every urban stage, set against the fantastic nightmare of domesticity & banal relationships.
I
painted hills with fire & houses with blood — walked on the clouds throwing handfuls of dung down on skittering pedestrians hiding under clotheslines, old cars, smashed mailboxes, pornographic magazines held above their shaven heads...

I kept a journal painted with words & crude ink drawings, to record my existence in terms of my surroundings...

Death becomes us
More & more
Shifting stark worlds
Impure to pure

the harsh white light awaits
William Cook
Friday, July 21, 2006
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1/26/2021 9:57:21 PM # 1.0.0.442