Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Out of the Tar Pits (six lines at a time)

Tied up in knots
All wrapped up inside
Tangled strands & bits of string
Thinking I’ve cut the cords
But every end remains fused

So easy to become ensnared
Trying to hide all the parts
And pieces of the truth
That I don’t want anyone to ever, ever see
Even though it needs to be exposed

Passions and lusts inflamed
Beyond the point of my control,
A control I do not have,
A control I’ve never had,
And it threatens to consume me

Because my walls have been broken,
Brought down to reveal the cancer,
The ugliness that lies within,
So that such a pain (even to death)
Might be excised so that I might live.

At the thought that my creation,
My precious, is no more, since
I have had many chances to seek out
Its removal, yet I have not asked,
To my detriment and that of another

Of a temple so loved and cherished
By one other than myself,
But I’ve lost all respect for what
Should lie within, and I don’t want anyone
To see what is actually there

Still found a way to spring forth,
Though death seemed imminent,
Though all looked hopeless,
Though everything was duly lost,
What was worn-away arose anew

Won out, against all odds,
Breaking through the wreckage,
Dispelling the darkness that had prevailed,
Chasing away the depression that sought to overwhelm
Forgiving what seemed so impossible to forgive

Copyright 08/16/2006


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