Adrift within circles, revolutions bringing initiations….
conclusions….. diversions…… patronages….. destruction.
Following paths others rutted with innumerate footsteps,
markers, signposts, portents…… blatant imagery which shouts
‘Turn Back!’, ‘Desist’, ‘Stop!’…
Unheeded, ignored, whatever…..
Just someone else’s trials and broken back. Not mine, not for me.
not understood as bracken turns to yellow grass.
Borrowed strength,
fulfilling prophecies spoke of on materialistic, flat screened, clubcard points.
Circles constrict, bring wonder and loss in equal measure.
Tightening bands, a hole punched with the end of a pair of scissors,
tricking us into thinking we are better than reality knows us to be.
Bringing pride, like that moment we look into a mirror after hours of self preparation.
Seeing that image of who we are as close to perfection as humanly possible.
Yet it is a revolution, just a spin of the wheel, a roll of the dice.
Tomorrow we’ll awaken to look at the reflection of who we are,
as people see us,
as life dictates we should be seen.
Both true, and vulnerable.
Alone? Perhaps wanted, perhaps rebuffed.
Wearing denim and denial, cloth and corruption.
Mindful and meaningless.
Alive, but adrift…………..
 
within circles.
Steve B 11/08
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