Moving Still

We dizzy ourselves sick
on the wheels of calamity
spin after spin after spin
we glutton our addiction to suffering.
We were brainwashed to believe
salvation explodes only from chaos
- Beauty splattered from Bing Bang.

However, I have found
perpetual struggle only grows
heart into stone
from which I cannot
taste the colours of this land
or hear the contractions of my pulse
or see words dance into voice
or smell the sizzle of spitfire passion
or feel the dawn of belonging

just a lump of jagged motionless
                  alone
in a meadow of surrounding sighs.


Translated into Spanish online at 'Circulo De Poesia' - Sep 2016