Monday, April 20, 2009

Circular Breathing 6:

(And to these travelers, nothing)

And with that, we entered Wonderland,
and all the curses of dreams gained
and found wanting were bestowed upon
our heads, all hopes crushed by their
simple fulfilment, the taste of
something long yearned for and yet
all wrong somehow on our tongues,
for we had changed upon the road--
what we imagined to be Eden catering to
dead and ghosted versions of ourselves;
catering to dreams wished into the
vanity of truth, betrayed by that
which kept us alive, and what
screams against the falsehood of
dreams attained, knowing that
is the road of the dead and
those who wait to die and are
worse than dust.

But the biting sting of the dust
is not the worst, for we have
waited, even when we said we'd
rather die than ache a moment longer
because we knew that attainment of
our dreams was out there, that
all the falsehoods of the road
and the legerdemain we'd perpetrated
while the sirens screamed had
allowed us to live, perhaps kept,
perhaps whored, but never betraying
the truth of our vanity--that we
would win in the end, that a
version of ourselves, or perhaps
only a ghost in that Dark Hereafter
might one day attend that catered
feast, but on that long road, with
all the diesel fumes and grit
upon our tongues, all that time we
were wrong, yearning long for
fulfilment damned, our minds
turned simple, our reason crushed
under the myth of a Wonderland
we could never truly survive to


Anonymous said...

There's much to comtemplate, here. Perhaps these things NEED to be said by someone who uses words as well as you do, but I feel the weight of them as I read.

Anonymous said...

Attainment is not always what we thought it might be. Uneless of course you make a lot of money in the process, and are therby free to persue whatever you want therafter.

Actually, I like this one. It can be odd to realize that you have more or less achieved something that you started many years before. But it does not look or feel the way you had imagined it might. I'm not sure that's a bad thing.


Bill said...

Pat... thanks for stopping by... It has been a long time, I'm trying to get the muse back, but it's been tough.

I see you've been prolific.. as always! :)

Patrick M. Tracy said...


Well, hell. I don't know what I'm saying. I just start putting down words and hope they come together as something sensible.


We always find ourselves changed on the road from here to there. I'm sure that this is the reason that the "quest" is such a popular idiom for stories.


Great to see you back. Prolific? Not like the "glory days" of '05-'06, but I've tried to keep up with it here and there. Hope to see you around soon!

Across Inconstant Breath

Would that this skin this frail armor atop the husk of slow departure -  Would that it held against the teeth  of night's maw a...