For A Better Propaganda: ambiguous-transparency: That country path cut...

12:30 19th Feb 2012

Notes: 30

That country path
cut from a field-
hostile memories in golden oat
where I ran so very fast
where I ran until the sweat covered me
where I pulled my hat off and screamed
as the cool midnight breeze
gave my soul back to me.

All this time I longed to be whole,
to feel more than alive, the breeze
setting passion to my mind and
hypnotizing all fear to dance away
from my eyes clouded, all before
my soul was reclaimed and I could taste
the bitterness in the air that embraced reality
and the sweetness that caressed dreams.

So I ran down the old grey road
cloaked by moonlight and a cheap torch
was I scared of renewed? Reclaimed?
Did this prophetic wind know already
what it would sail into my life soon
did it have it planned,
I do not think so, as pathetic
I ran wailing down the road
about victory
daring cars to bite

But I knew all along that
nothing was ever certain
but if I could make a very
educated guess, it would be
that the wind already knew
where I would sail to with my
boldness, newly found confidence,
down this dimly lit road and into
the unknown, the ship waiting
at the end to take me to the
land of victory where I shall
conquer all and make life yield
before my feet.

But the wind was just a puppet
Ushering me to the beaches of
the pyramid-eye land, glories unsheathed
Falling through my hands.
If only that scared child had known
the feeling in his gut that night
was the first taste of her aura
If only he had known how is bones
Would arc and bend to fit in the frame
If only he had known the road
Always bends when you least expect…

If only he had known that
he could have been the puppet master
in this circus glorious, his waking soul
never turning back to its somniferous hours.

Seth in regular, Jenny in italics.