Grasping for Nothing

The falling

-----------s

----------t

---------a

--------r

-------s

The falling failing shining

l

-i

--g

---h

----t

-----s

of a forgotten yesterday

becomes the quickening,

the shattering of

a

thou s a n d

unlived dreams

~

The line, the truth

the rattle, the proof

the will to give--give

feed the lie, the myth

~

poetry—is and should be—

what you choose, and destiny an estimation,

a long-drraawwnn out guessing game

perpetuated by the notion of

"I will"

the implausibility of

success

and the causality-casualties of

belief

are—nonetheless—push /forward,

ever forward, grasping for the "nothing"

~

The life, the heart

the beating, a la carte

the conscience decision

the metaphysical incision

~

vanity, vanity, is it not,

grasping at

{the wind—so to speak—of chance.}

The w i n d s of

change

follow their own course—with deviations—of course

bitterness becomes bitterness,

bad becomes worse, more becomes "nothing"

~

Tell me your story

sit down and recall

your story, your reason

for believing, the deceiving

Walk me through the darkness

as the light and the clarity

parts and reveals a cesspool

of emotionally drained fools

Return to sender, delicious pretenser

setting us up for the fall we love

we love to fall for the cause of—

~

stand up, stand up, on Table Mountain,

on Tabletop, and scream "I will"

perpetuate the profundity,

pre-form the perfunctory and watch as

r

a

I

n

s

fall,

s

n

o

w

falls and

a

l

l

falls,

as you reach for something so as to

—become it.

~

abject permanence (devastating)

object prevalence - distance myself from

~

adjective convalescence -

until I s u f f er

the conjunctive persistence of vision.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: To provide some background, I submitted four poems a few months ago to Rattle's open submissions, and none were accepted (or all were rejected, depending on how you want to look at it - both the same outcome). One of those poems, (Pointing Forward), became part of my Runner-up winning piece, Still the Sun, for the Somewhere Between Here and There Challenge.

The other three have sat on my hard drive while I thought about what to do with them. Then, today, I was editing and playing around with one of the Rattle-rejected pieces for publishing, Grasping for Nothing, and realised it would work well spliced with another poem, Delicious Pretenser. Wallah. Brand new experimental poem with a lot of darkness and sadness to it.