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mayvaneday/poetry/a/access.txt

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2021-11-13 03:02:11 +01:00
A New Page
2020-12-06
***
the sun fails its checksum
it doesn't feel the same
as the blazing starry organ that
once sent me sprawling for shade
I need a new story
to occupy my head
for I keep running my fingers
through tattered shattered shreds
that have grown flimsy from folding
and furry with mold
and tired from touch
sparkless, dismal, *old*
I pull out my ROMs
and play one a while
picked out from random
one of a million files
but each of them fails to
spark my imagination
so I put controller away
and continue furtive hunt
hundreds of fiction books
but each one a reminder
from when I was naive
setting my ambitions higher
comics, I find, are
few and far between
either boring in their cliches
or in a language I cannot read
an aged painting is sublime
but its enchantment temporary,
whether of trees, landscape, woman,
or dancing rows of fairies
almost three years has taught my soul
that is most powerful which I *externalize*
but my body is weary, sky outside gray
and I feel neither learned nor wise
so I build a boat from spare unused neurons
and set out on my ocean to explore
if there are stories worthy waiting out there, I know not
but my adventure starts on this unmodeled shore
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander