Cell Block 9

 

There is the normal shock

that consumes the soul

upon arriving in a new reality

bare, with no traces 

of a former life-line-perforated-

into breath and blink

inside out.

You can open your eyes,

your mouth,

as the four walls

close in-for walls

box, cell or plaster 

made to contain

or hold-

back-then

This is It,

all that is needed to 

eat, sleep, repeat

every day, what were seasons and 

shades no longer define a time, a space

like black and white, day to night,

all began bleeding 

grey. The light only hurts

open wounds, such as eyes and mouth.

This much

Less, is more

deserved 

when sentenced 

for Life

without color, without a soul, without a window, 

with a reflection of nothing that was, is

held inside

with only the wait 

for Freedom 

that releases

the fear from inside out

but chooses to stay. 

Artwork credit: 'Acta Apostolorum (Acts of the Apostles)', Plate numbered 27, The Conversion of the Warder; to left, St Paul and Silas kneel in their prison cell; the prison warder descends the steps leading to the open doors of the cell, his sword drawn; behind him two other armed men follow, bearing torches; to far right, figures congregate on a flight of stairs. 1582 by the British Museum, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Sundialing

Under the darkness
I wait for daylight
and it slowly drains
all energies made
over-this-night.

I find myself
empty and long
for the warm light
to wane
or die
back down
knowing this
way we live is insane
and making it not so different
from this sentence.

The years blend by lumens
and erase all traces
of anticipation
for another
night
to escape
for day to come,
for the light that never
dawned upon me...

unrisen and incapable
of my occasional
need to know
what a future holds
without hands.


Painting by 'German Master' unknown, Still Life with skull, sundial, wax jack' c. 1620 in Public Domain. 

The path is Brodsky

His sentences say

He never repeats them

With eye or I

How would we know?

He is only a product of

Progression, 
an obsession with freedom

Of speech and others

Sentences.

His composure, 
demure, muffled,

intonations

He shies away

From his fiction

Life. Sentences.

Written this way.

Point of Departure is too

Point of No Return.

Painting by Isaak Brodsky (1906) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.