‘Distant Land’

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

The blank page
has the coldest stare,
no words can describe
this darkness inside,
yearning for amnesia.
Happiness, the distant land
where other people live;
I’m no denizen there,
my passport withdrawn
when you rejected me —
subjecting me —
to the pain of my self

Copyright Francis Barker 2020

In need of a happiness project?

Too Many Faces

They call it intoxicating. Spices full
on humidity, shrinking circles of heat run
down the small of my back, diesel
drips in sweat, salt on my lips— so
why do lungs full of carcinogens
feel like a relief? In the end you tire
of the faces, always staring, smiling
all the time like marigold hearts
worn on loose sleeves. Not so much
an assault on senses as an attack
on my sanity; overindulgence
in samsara. No wonder, then, this
belief in rebirth, endless circles of pain
to match this growing pain in my head:
There are, after all, only so many faces
to go round

© copyright David F. Barker 2012

Peterborough, England, BST

Open Link Night ~ Week 54