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the dream of poem, while reclined, watching nonsense
not inspired, revolted
but this poem had it's fangs in my mind
and I was ready to expose it here,
but I stayed still crafting the poem
while I lay reclined,
still revolted by the viewing,
but still deep in another mist of viewing.
I turned my view towards the blue,
but thought I shouldn't,
Don't return, don't drown everyone, because the drowning is easy for everyone to find, it's all downhill isn't it?
So I carry this sentence beyond what I meant it to be. When I view each one of you to be, to be you, it straps the blocks to my back, but it sheds the fear of you, completely strange.
I refill the light when I travel on these blocks, I keep the hand that lights the new hours.
The backsteps I call upon,
and light streams from people who know me, raises us to us.
And that is what I've had to say tonight.
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