Pillars 11/15

I came back from a deep dive

not knowing what would happen

or what I’d find

Waves of laughter, euphoric tides

and pressure of the deep….deep…

compacting my mind



Prostrate, strained respirating,

salivating in the estuary

where I found myself after the last rite

Facing the facts: there are things from which

we cannot hide

And once home again I find

in all my rooms, my nest, my soul— occupied

…by pillars!



Some more tall, some less wide

Cold, lifeless stone sprouting from the floor

and breaking in from outside

Slinking from the ceiling and

blocking out the rare shine

of a sunny afternoon in wintertime



I could ignore them all, pretend they’re not there

but sooner or later I’m bound to fail

and like the image of Christ on a street vendor’s veil, there I am

—SLAMMED against the stone!



But my mind is so dense, and my wits very sharp

I’m convinced I could tear these pillars apart

Then where would I be? What about my art?

My pillars are real (or they may as well be,

fencing me in where nobody can see),

But am I them or are they inside of me?



I’ll cultivate patience, and brandish my wit

through my budding third eye, through the dust and the grit

and swift precise strikes like Napoleon did,

Demolish those that block my Path

and chisel beauty from whatever is left.