Hello, Cruel World!

I kid... All I mean to say, is; 'Hello again'.

I've not been here for a while now, occupations keeping me busy; administering spiritual medication, a stint in a relationship, some light travel, work, leisure, et cetera, et cetera....

Today, I spent the large part of the morning awake, in my underwear, in bed- reading for a few hours, listening to the sound of the rain and putting my mental faculties towards the effort of the organisation of my life. Curiosity impelled me to review some of my old work- now, mostly, forgotten books of poems that I'd written during my maturation and travels across the period of my early twenties. Occasionally, I think I was a much better writer then then I will ever continue to be. Perhaps I had a much greater 'feeling' for life, or maybe I just felt more. Truth is, as I've grown, I've become a little dejected about the subject of the 'word', and it's overall futility, removed from the wider scope of the futility of all things. In thinking, I weave my way through words that never go uttered, and expressions that never find their airing; I realise all the things I think I know and understand that in my vociferating; nothing changes.

I am compelled to leave this place, for somewhere where I do not speak the language, to be forced to learn anew and find worth in all the simple things again- the successes of finding a roof for the night, of feeding and resting well; of, overall, yearning for something of the more rural pastiche. Nature learned all the hidden meanings within the world, long ago, and decided they were better kept as secrets.

In solitude, language takes a more somber turn. It becomes as a song in a mausoleum.
Here is a poem I wrote (speculatively) four years ago. Perhaps it loses its meaning without context, but the leaf, or 'Objet d'Art', was stolen from me, many years afterward.

The most excruciatingly

beautiful message

I had ever read

was passed to me

on the side of a floating leaf.

I cried because I knew;

with the age stricken Autumn,

I never could preserve that leaf

just as I never

could preserve a true love

that it spoke of.

They both would wither in time.

I will hold on to that leaf

until the day it dissipates;

it brings some solace to my grief;

knowing that once

I was loved by you