A dozen, a multitude, a score –
The paths stretch forward, back, beyond.
First steps so clear, so precise.
Too quickly, the paths turn and twist:
The steps fade, blur, and obscure,
Leaving the path’s distant end
In dark, unsettled uncertainty.
Author Archives: emtwytte
A Dozen, a Multitude, a Score
It Traps
Gray matter emblazoned with patterns and paths,
Taught, learned, innate, and in-between.
Like a spymaster, it traps information
And sends it through those labarynthian paths,
Never seeing the walls of its own creation.
All-encompassing Rage
All-encompassing rage
Bursts forth like fireworks:
Fast, percussive, and screaming.
Constrained in a cage
Of forced civility –
All internal
But for wisps
Of escaping smoke.
Questions Once Answered
Questions once answered
Now scream, incomplete.
Truths once assured
Now weep, insufficient.
Wishes once anticipated
Now wither, insufferable.
Wounds once cauterized
Now bleed, indiscreet.
The Voices of Pain
“Don’t give up!”
One cries to others,
For it too well remembers
How a light so snuffed
Shatters and sunders
Those left behind.
“Make it stop!”
Another screams silently,
For it too strongly feels
How a life subtly skewed
Shackles and slices
Those bleeding inside.
“Leave me alone!”
Whimpers the one
That too deeply knows
How powers held singly
Falter and fragment
When faced only outward.
“Be with me!”
Begs yet another
That too clearly sees
How days left but not lived
Frighten and fracture
When paced ever onward.
From whimpers to curses
And whispers to screams,
They overwhelm and overflow
Mind, soul, and senses:
A cacophony of can’ts
An onslaught of shoulds.
From crescendos to solos
And all in between
The chorus continues:
To all but their target,
Unheard and unseen.
Change Impels the Choice
May we remember that
Every year there are
Rays of bright light and
Rot of dark despair.
Yule holds both and all.
Change impels the choice;
Happy and harmful vie to
Rule your heart and mind.
Invoked as the focus, either
Spreads and affects all –
Thieving joy that could be or
Manufacturing more from little.
Again and again or for the first,
Shall you bear, bow, or build?
twytte 