i placed an idol, a dollar’s worth of grocery

into this cheap old bag; clutched it tight to my chest,

i ransacked the library for old wisdom lost,

believing that perhaps a message could turn plight

to might; feeble dreary worn down body aching to rest

on an alarming loud horn blasting past, another one of those

riders demanding attention. i swore inwardly, went about my day

to refreeze another meal missed, nostalgia old childhood lingers,

an ache then departs quietly when reality chills, more cold than

the freezer where emotions no longer stir. i too froze, my mind, my heart

when logic and chaos play poker; each calling the other bluff,

and meanwhile the cold has chilled bones, unable to gather and place

another item into the fridge; how mundane!

exasperated, forlorn, wilted, shrunken, heavy, clumsy almost

i fell upon a stupor and grasped for something real, almost

it seemed that time began to slow down, to retract, to undo,

of many hooks, of many nicks, of many blunders,

each fog, each mist, each wall, each meander, each curve, each tunnel

each way out – to find i wandered 40 years in the desert.

trying to fix a stamp, to bandage a wound, to drink tainted water,

and all those times yet still cherishing, believing this was a walk to the moon!

unpleasant surprises, forbidden hex spells, curses and a waif at the edge of

a cliff: rebel, rebel the whispers nudged within, i still clutched on to false hopes

that i, i could turn things around;

slip

and it seemed i fell for a long, long time, a stretch, it might be moments,

felt like a marathon –

landed on hard hot earth grumbling;

landed on 2 legs and found no wings that spirited me away,

then i gasped, i choked, i felt green,

a pang of regret as earthy comfort lost their splendor.

the desert does that,

this wandering, this maze, this realization of damnation,

i wanted it my way,

all my idols grinned back, all my treasures beamed like the sun,

they loved me not,

they wanted it their way,

and it was always a one way street.

for i was empty, desolate, void, lifeless

my shell shone like my treasures, my idols, loving me back,

if that is called love … …

the difference between lust and love some say is just a shade,

an interpretation, a play of words, a twist, a context, a good spin,

is it really?

is it really when damnation is apparent once a deed digs deep,

rots the flesh, rots the mind, rots the heart, rots the soul

till festering wounds inflict no more pain – just numbness.

this plain utopia of never having to feel,

some call it paradise;

a soul muted, a soul stiffed, a soul in bondage, a soul that never lived,

festering soul – and a world of delight

festering flesh – and a fire that burned.

my fevered dreams, my lucid dreaming,

my wandering heart. ah that is it; the culprit,

the devil in the flesh!

spoke to me like a cheshire cat

in riddles, in meanings layered with meanings, in paradoxes

till i found myself turning upside down, unable to make head or tails

as to what reality meant. it means the cat said grinning,

without stating anything at all

and left me up to interpretation as to what the entire conversation was about.

a pinhole trick, upside down, topsy turvy;

my fevered dream broke, sweating profusely,

found i could stand on 2 feet, the world looked normal,

no bantering cat around – just me, silly old me

who thought god was lesser, who believed in the absurd,

who went where the wind blew, who took in whatever the crowd gave,

who simply went along because mass gives confidence.

i was the fool, the idiot

who thought god played dead.

a flower, a leaf, an ant, a river, the sea, the mountains, the wind, love

ah – creations, wonders, signs,

then the devil comes along: maybe the apple will make you like god!

and like most idiots,

i too found it quite fascinating, what an idea,

what … …

but lust fails, lust erodes, lust lies, lust deceives, lust is almost

the words not said.

the straight and narrow suddenly looked a lot more

than the broad, taking all into account.

you know, what matters in the end.