Anequalia

My velvet-curtained retina
The anechoic chamber of my soul
That ponders not the meaning of blue
That feels not what it is to be you
That struggles with issues of self-identity
The concept of I and the meaning of me
A pool without ripple
It swallows the being
Of what is thrown in - without feeling
Could this be how I am feeling?
No - the words ran away with me
Honestly

Solitary

Birds

Awake before dawn
To greet the sun
Answerable to no one
Fluttering where they will
Feeding in flight until
Babies are chirping at parents returning
Soon they fly to Africa
To nest on another prison wall
The sky is silent in the fall

Mouse

Runs in the walls
As if they were halls
And corridors to cells
Sniffs and twitches and smells
He visits me in the night
Shyness is not fright
The cautious may live as they please
Free as a breeze
That blows wherever it might

Sky

No man may see more than half of the sky
The earth obstructing his eye
Through my window a glimpse
Of stars between bars
Sometimes the moon and I cry
For her light is fair
And the blue of a clear day is rare
Sun riding high in the sky

Bowl

What does my bowl bring
Hunger sweetens everything
Teaching me to be grateful
I put it on the windowsill
When the rain is from the West
Then I drink water from heaven
And that is always the best

Door

Steel with a hole
For an eye and a slot for my bowl
Incarcerating encapsulating
My adversary
That opens not for me
When I hear the key I fear
Who will visit with me
When they are gone I will be
Customarily solitary

The Commission

Make me that which need not skill
So that any fool may kill
Satan asked of his favourite son
And was presented with the gun

In a surfeit of delight
He commanded - let them fight
Without pause or intermission
Except to pass the ammunition

And they fought and fell and died
While mothers wept and children cried
And Satan laughed at what he'd done
And smiled upon his favourite son