Itch…(evolve into a beat poem)
March 27, 2010
What is this itch?
This twitch
Inside my finger,
That begs me to see
The question of belief
Is bigger than me?
Bigger than the question
[Or a faustian solution]
To a problem that cannot be solved.
So why am I involved?
In the means,
When the end is near?
And invites me to fear
What I can’t see.
And see what I can’t hear.
Believe you me,
When I’m finally free,
That is my first lesson learned!
The time I was burned
By a little truth,
Faith became abuse.
An abuse of the use
Of words to loose
Self-seeking ends.
A truth that bends
Around my plans…
Tight inside my hands
‘Cause My soul can’t bare
The blank stare
Of a stranger in danger of becoming lost…
Like me;
Tossed like a wave;
Tranquility begs questions
Unanswered by doubts.
And un-lacerated
By second-hand nails.
I see myself fail…
I begin to bail…
As I sink,
Then I begin to think;
But what’s the use?
If my thoughts are abuse?
And my mind, a cell.
A hell on earth,
Rebirth into light,
Night to morning,
Gently mourning the death of myself…
Falling from shelf
…To shelf
…To shelf
