TONGUE TIED
Insatiable desires octopus [l]ink the years,
tentacle grey cells, snakeworm squirming through the mind,
no bone is left unturned, no sense but sense behind.
They savour after-taste of turmoil, trials, and tears.
Joy flares - ephemeral euphoria which steers
towards acceptance blind proactively combined
with anticipation, - Effect, Cause, intertwined.
Black hole spirals on key, implodes then disappears
as elucidating some mystery which clears
itself of Self, vomits its mass to unwind space,
impregnating the void with mutant seed designed
to shatter temporal links of sterility.
Who hears spheres’ music may, a moment, surf Time’s tide,
who cannot, silent falls, walls spirit, calls tongue-tied.
written 9 May 1992
robi03_0570_robi03_0000 SXX_EMZ
© Jonathan Robin
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