Six of Wands
what is something lasting?
something with meaning?
what is lost and what is profound?
is you, then me
the antonym to
passive and aggressive?
if victory awaits
why the weight?
why the wait?
I am trying to stop, I and eye and I am
the cause of my blind, of my dislocated
the vision gets tweaked from
the prism of remembrance
if success is there, waiting
where am I and
why is it so close to dismantling always?
with success comes fear
of having to produce more than
you can birth
the pregnant belly
of creativity doesn’t stop growing
regardless of the stillness
anger touches the fringes of my soon to be
I am fascinated with death because it is the only thing left
I haven’t experienced
in that way I am triumphant
at first spank you are blue and green
and with age you are red, orange
a gray descends and finally you are underwater and bloated again
a body of gas with nowhere to go but back to the dirt