Remembering Kierkigaard... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i have the cold arms of
the earth
wet mud, my mind is a dew
on a leaf,
my spirit do not soar
like a rocket in
space
i have numb thoughts
about this
once loving arms
i have only ceilings without
stars
the heart is like a drum
torn at its center
soundless at
dawn
i want to go somewhere else
to places without
names
i am a future annihilation of
what was once
constructed
a hardship that wants to
fade
a love that looks like
faded blue jeans
desire is a straight line of that
machine
telling that someone is dead
there is this strong odor of chloroform
in the bedroom
one can hear the song
of the ticks
the curtains sigh like air
the pillow does not murmur
there is this hum imagining the
face of someone
you know it but you cannot say it
things like these happen
they do
and then we say oh i am so sorry
i am human and i will always be
'sadder than sad, bluer than blue'
the contempt of my silence
the thrill of what to do next
the blur of the moment
this sickness unto
death....