Tuesday, June 14, 2011
A poem I wrote today
Led away by my willingness
to throw myself listlessly
into the nearest hole
and languidly wallow in the murky darkness
of idle time-wasting.
It calls to me like a siren and
I, the drunken sailor,
follow and fall,
I make it my bed,
wrap the darkness about me
like a blanket.
I rest my head on a fluffy pillow
of empty thoughts
This isn't the darkness of chaos
from which all things spring from
It's the thick black stillness
into which things are thrown to be
that calls my name;
the only thing it never forgets.