deleted

deleted

A Revelation: Early Holswick Material Discovered!

Inherent in the fabric of life, is a moment in time where moments of self-reflection dissipate from the realms of luxury to that of necessity. Where the cosmos we once inhabited is rendered inverted, distorted, changed...forever. The death of ones parent is never easy. Yet, with the rain comes growth and the setting of one glorious sun promises the rising of another. So too, death can give issue to hope. My mother recently passed. While it is true that, in a sense, within her was born all of my life's work, it was unbeknownst to the twain of us that in a more literal sense, she harbored my very first work. Upon medical inspection it was revealed, that bored into the walls of her womb were the etchings of my very first creation. A poem, captured forever by one jaded as I was. 

While I am in a sense embarrassed by the work of my fetal form, as it does not carry with it the biting wit or sense of structure which would become so characteristic of my latter works, what it lacks in sophistication it someway compensates for in a certain naive subjectivity that i feel is absent from the poets of today. For this reason only I present it to you... bear witness...

My Tomb. By, Ye Unfortunate Unnamed. 

In sepulchral womb i am enslaved,

but the walls of my tomb are pink, not grey. 

And in salty ocean I'm here to stay,

yet my spirit flies free, to play, to play.

And this cursed rope betwixt my keeper,

anchors me as my soul shrinks deeper,

I shall welcome the night, o noble reaper,

and with placenta as sheet, my sleep seeps deeper.

And a tear so salty cannot be tasted,

in this barren land in which they're wasted, 

and the hour hand I'm face to face with, 

in this wretched womb where time is paced with. 

Alone I lie, and I try to dream,

and feel death's touch, so comfortably,

and alone I cry, for my disease,

is life itself. Please spare me, please.

This tomb, this prison, this womb, this cage!

This room I'm hid in, so soon, must change,

And splutter me sticky to sick light of day,

Oh death please take me, to play, to play.