Tag Archives: #blogging

Momento Vivere

Wait and wait
Until it’s too late.
I think you used to think of me,
Maybe, in a different way.
There was a connection to fight;
An eager urge, a primal surge 
always caught in a bottom lip bite.
Was that in your line of sight?
I think we used to be at ease in a way we aren’t now that freedoms seize. 
Mellow to bright,
Blinding as first opening eyes to light;
I see and I’d like to hide.
I think of times that never were,
But could have been;
Things I’ve never said, 
But could still mean.
I think often of things that mean nothing:
The soft second of skin against skin,
The scent of cologne subtly swaying through the den,
A warm and relentless strum played by hands I’ll never know,
A self proclaimed throne inside layers upon layers of walls made of stone. 
I’d like to let it all go:
The solid sound of the same things on tv,
The way I laugh twice as loud at all the same jokes,
The absolute awareness of being almost a little too close,
The way you don’t seem to think very obviously of any of it,
And the desire to know if you’d dare be aware at all.

– E.B.

Selfish

I want to love,
To hold in my arms 
Unknowing existence;
To guide it
As it breathes,
Lungs ablaze with the air
Of passion,
Of pain,
Disdain.

I want to love,
To give everything for
Involuntary life;
To ensure survival
As it grows,
Bones aching with 
“What is the meaning?
Why exist?
Why persist?”

I want to love,
To be just so proud of
This unsuspecting,
Cornered soul.
To think just how lucky 
I am to have 
Burdened by breeding,
Intervening, 
Creating this being
Now fleeing the alteration-
Of-generations.

– E.B.

Don’t get me wrong, actual snakes are innocent

Snakes seduce,
So do you.
Slither slowly,
Writhe, and twist.
Strangling in plain view, 
Strangling submissive youth.

Smothered,
And desperate
Amidst a lack of air,
An unspoken truth 
Dies there.

Snakes mangle hearts
Constrict leisurely,
Grip and Conflict
Contorting with malice aforethought,
Contorting possible light, possible self,
Posterity.

Contorted,
And conditioned,
From a lack of care,
A child hides there
Scared and aware.

Snakes seize brains, 
So often unkind.
Spinelessly spinose,
Yet, 
“Of sound mind”.
They bind.

Bound day to day,
Obey. 
Relay.
Feel every blink of the eye, 
And crave the blue of every vein.


- E.B.

Identity/Existence

Sometimes things don’t feel real, sometimes I don’t feel real. It’s as if my mind has morphed into an alien planet that I’ve only just discovered. I don’t know what or who exactly I am here. Every so often this happens. I lose interest in what I am in order to journey towards some kind of personal epiphany, like this person I’ve been isn’t who I am. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? For the mind to reject the answer to the question of what it is, just to be able to ask again and again. Will the answer change? Part of existence is to ponder, and it’s an important part. To ponder this sometimes feels as if Im a glass vase, full of vibrant color and history, though sometimes I’m also a stranger smashing this vase to the ground just to see if it’s the same once it’s put back together. But I suppose that’s what an identity is, isn’t it? A stranger to existence being thrown into this conundrum of a world and asked to make sense of the pieces they experience, to put together an opinion, a personality, an identity. We are not shards to a broken vase, but rather pieces to a puzzle that’s made up along the way, maybe by fate or some divine plan, or maybe just total chaotic happenstance. And I suppose the picture made up at the end of the puzzle is human existence, a collage of the pieces that make us whole. And I suppose it’d be better not to ask, but to accept the ever changing and adapting existence.