Tuesday, August 16, 2011
My heart beats to tides pulled by alien moons,
Sailing an acid yellow sea beaten by boiling martian winds.
The vessel has patched sides, a thin hull,
Threadbare sails made of time. Rips punch through,
rending ragged fabric edges, with infinite space
through the gap.
For so long I clung to the mast, screaming
until my throat bled: THE UNIVERSE IS PEACE,
YOU DO NOT NEED TO STRUGGLE, VIOLENCE
IS FOR THE BLIND, FIND THE GENTLE
IN YOURSELVES! While my ship mates
Only laughed at me, a fat woman who had
No place among the brutal-muscled
Fraternity of those who sailed
A sea they could not fathom.
And I'd be clutching that mast still,
Splinters beneath my nails, the skin of my chest shredded
By shattered wooden dreams.
But the ship heaved ignorance and I tumbled
through a tattered ghost fabric to the great beyond.
I found the universe was vast
And echoed with peace.
I floated untethered, found a berth in a burst of brilliance
And I sit and hum my message
Surrounded by busy stars
I strive to serve.
Sometimes when I close my eyes
I can feel the heave of that acid storm
Beneath my feet
And see distorted rainbows of polluted skies
Behind my lids.
I can hear the echo of the unfathomed
And wonder that the ship
Would not founder without me.
I keep my eyes closed
For fear of my grief
When I no longer see
My alien moon.