I have floundered

Between extremes

Unable to identify

The herald

Of my departure

To whom or what

Do I bestow

This wreckage?

For what reason

Do I seek

The truth

In contradiction?

When contradictions

By their nature

Incite rebellion

How will I

In searching

Find peace?


For the static

I cannot hear the melody

That contests within

I know not to which

North to align

My vagarious limbs

I am lost

The withering light

Of an intermittent satellite

Finds no synapse

Through which to illumine

And voice alarm.

I fear the absolution

Of Nirvana


I write as if each syllable

Were a dirge

If not my hands

Than let my words

Grow callused and formidable

Let my poems

Metaphoric and fragile

Rise up from the ash

Of a repercussion wisdom