Cocoon's Consequence

I recently heard about a Slam Poetry event. I've watched a few you tubes over the years, of such. Kind of interesting, interested.

but never lifted a keystroke in consideration. yet, this time, I felt drawn, intuition calling. So, yesterday, I watched a few more video's, rattled through my mind; what to write about. I know sources are best, when drawn from experience. of the Slam Poets i watched, I reacted most strongly to the dark stuff. I have more than a fair share of prior darkness to draw upon, and once I began it flowed. wrote some yesterday, finished it today.

I am interested in your feedback. Wonder if it's long enough, for the roughly 3 Min's a slam poetry performance is modeled to. Of course, it feels different, reactions may change, text versus performed.

A Cocoon's Consequence
Donald Turner

lovingly nurtured, cocoon well constructed, my darkness, drove me on

in bed late at night, thoughts beating incessant fright, I tightly wrapped up, in my mind

noise never ending, reality... bending, clamor descending, I punched

action, required, plans are desired, I felt, as the tunnel collapsed, crunched

abrupt end before me, I just can't ignore ME, release, no more...me, I constructed demise

bought a jug of cheap wine, safe passage through time... and rope strong enough, I did carry

scratchy bark I ascended, finality, upended, I scaled the right limb

crawling and mauling, trawling, depths' pain so enthralling, I closed in on the rim

time to think, time's such a sink, an obstacle, a bobble, no regard

the noose that I fashioned, my life; someone's caption, a picture, a child, contraption

I mumble some disgust, then pray void of lust, desperate plea, resigned to the act, self discard

with a gulp I complete, cheap wine, at my feet, the ground 20 or so down below me

secure the said noose.. prepare to, let loose, one last glance at the sky

that dark matter cloak, the cocoon I had born, tightened, self, I cry

I leap, falling free through space, through time, through all I despised

my life's fashioned mire, my self's cruel desire, walled off and alone

to practice dark arts, construction of parts, serve me, so I thought,  ...but no one else

alone, I must conquer, a trap of desire, a prison, self inflicted

but freedom, I crave, none but a slave, would demand unrestricted, illusions depicted

with a bounce, it felt tight, that noose, was it right? the rope, it gave way

I plunged to the ground, unconscious of mine, my choice, my control, my cocoon

a shattered demise, a life full of lies, Alice... to the moon

passed out on the ground, delusion I found, awakened to vomit around

I shuddered, I paused, I came to, ....just how much destruction will do?

the dark matter, it fell, my survival, my instinct...  did swell, 

on my feet I arose, my pain, to disclose, my actions, absurd, must be unmasked

a few coins, did I find, in my pockets, a small jingle, I reached to out my mother, I Live

within hours on plane, that flight from disdain, relief, all a tingle, 

a new choice I will make... I Live

truth.. aint it a bitch

damn it.. seemingly born with a heart of a investigative journalist, a seeker..
unquenchable thirst. insatiable hunger.. for more information.

so life's been a journey of questing information, truth, and coping, with frequent dead ends, unanswerable questions, misinformation, lies, propaganda.

fragments. fyi.. I think in fragments.. phrases.. going to practice capturing those. not having to wordsmith everything. elaborate. Ill come back and elaborate that which strikes my fancy. but today I want to fish.. in my brain.. for stuff... get it out while I can. document.

emotions. I cried today.. it was good thing.. I don't cry enough. I get blocked, stuck, bottled up. pent up. life is hard today, different, not hard like scratching an existence out of the dirt, hunting for my next meal.. but hard because I'm force fed lies 24/7... lies about government, lies about products, lies from co workers. hards because the world I live in..the community I share with others.. people.. civility.. breaking down. a century of materialism and consumerism.. has created a nation of self absorbed zombies.. umbilical cords tied to smart phones, and an incessant need for acknowledgement, for satisfaction of needs they can't identify or satisfy.

so I bounce like a pinball, off endless bumpers, obstacles... and try to satisfy my own unidentified needs and desires. avoid the zombies when possible. break off a piece of serenity. quietly.

calm. peace. quiet. let go...

less theme, more steam

understood the value... need.. to capture more. record. experience.

think I'll undertake a project, to write regularly, capture it here. who needs physical matter.. I have this digital canvas to write to.

I think I.

will just write.. let my thoughts flow, see what comes of it. avoid inspiration until it comes for topics and messages. thinkers think, but it amounts to nil, if not stored somehow. maybe the universe stores, maybe it doesn't.

strange energies.. in my head, in the world, all around me, inside me. opportunity. chaos. love. shiva and krishna warming up I feel.

I watched Montage of heck last night. what a malestrom. hype, sensitivity, creativity, sound, visual. Inspired me to come back to this, with my thoughts and ideas, desire.

detach with love from desire, it usually sources only pain, but worthy impetus too.

leaf in a stream, handle less, crush any boxes created. I search and destroy thought boxes and grips for maintenance of old systems of imagined control, tethers to familiar, but uncomfortable, states, paradigms, schemes. Less filter, more release, for discovery's need, I shall consider, observe, provoke.

namaste