A rebel without a clue.

My mind has been filled with beasts of absurd proportions and I was unheard among the cacophony of their blasted voices.  The space I was looking for was marginal and obscured to my sight. It was there but like the thin ribbon floating on the current of broken branches, spinning turmoil and helpless hopes heading beyond the steady shore in a forced drowning. Between the heaving, the rushing and the dominating of the presence I could find no means, no shore and no foothold. It was all lost for I. Now I stand, after nearing a suffocating end,  drenched and gasping for meditative air; peace brought lower to my soul beyond lungs like a spinnaker forcing and heart bearing a capstan fully wound-up under earthly pressures. It is relief to feel calm as the storm water retreats. After a purposefully felt mindful day (I had resolved to have yesterday evening). The bad weather gone and the demons drowned out at sea. Against the odds I stuck to this crazy confusing track with voices ...

Nothing I do is worthless It is a reflection of Truth Troth to being and equal not being Holy is the whole reality Discernible in pure view.

Broken am I? Thinking not I ... Blank is last - Zero, I am. Not ready for what is next. Fear, so therefore can't leave. Waiting with loose bolt This final thing, anthing, A hand shakes and nerves hasten I can not do; more and more fail. No more chance; Is this the meaning of knowing? I flapped my wings too close This time with such descent Burned it beyond connecting true How nothing thou art, being! Why am I suicidal yesterday, today and tomorrow Eleven bells: are those deep breaths? Shallower now No joy for me means Inside a mist stretches my head A thick fog reaching over my thoughts. Dreams only disappear with a Cold cloaked foe leaning me Flat.

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s315/sh/3bac4119-33ca-4184-a4bc-fcfa7834415e/4c80907926b39ab1064b35c7dbbf687e Only: dread. The world I see is now, In the slow long heavily slumped Blunt march of a funeral, And overcast. A coffin, quite empty, is held; Too low. Unconforming. Not a thing good can ever come? If. What is spread refuses to die; Being toxic Is free without the casket. As the damp earth is pitched

Do I  live in a shit town? Oh yeah! I live in a shit town Just there hacking with odour And without any ardour Shimmying oozing Wharfe and Wafting poos Into the midnight air Some sparks dying there.

Dogs are clumsy and generous Cats are dainty and mean Dogs are rough and ready Cats are shirts and tidy Dogs might whiff a bit Cats will usually smell serene Dogs take a life of walking Cats make a life of stalking Dogs can't take solitary life Cats are happier on their own Dogs are part of the family Cats scorn friendship alone. Dogs are always hungry Cats are usually lean Cats make giant furballs Dog licks their balls But the they both make us happy When we return after a long day From the trials and tribulation Of that thing we call an occupation

She moves like a shadow on the sand Twisting sidewise against the ripple and Darkly testing us for silicate and rust Footfalls tread in the melancholy dust The colours there represent a simple pallet But she tells me that she has more left The choice is simple and is easily balloted What more can i do to stop being alone But she will not help me solve her clue There i am a single singley chosen hue Deserting her love choice multiple tone.