Syrup

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words swim through the slurry
brain soup stirring a mini tornado
even the background noise of child’s play
causes ructions of pyroclastic rock
that threaten to break the slippery surface

slowly I go, every move deliberate
measured only in shadows on the wall
slipping in and out of the scene unnoticed
undisturbed by my passing because my words
cause disturbance enough with each breath

but wait a while, surely this will roll by
keep turning with the revolving door
until a new opening emerges, inviting
relish at the thought of perishing darkness
and the glint of gold in a syrup dawn

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24 responses to “Syrup

  1. Ha the glint of gold in a syrup dawn is so pretty – I know you probably think of it as light filtering in, but I can’t help but think a bit of pancakes! And the delight of that kind of pure, easeful morning. Certainly a making of truce with the slurry of the brain soup and all that struggle. k.

  2. This reminds me a little of the way in which when we fear something, so many of us (myself included) shallow breathe so that we don’t create a noise or, make matters worse than they already are? There is so much more here, reading between the lines. Very deep, sad, lovely.

  3. pyroclastic…is that a word, if not it is now….very cool…love all the cachophony in the beginning…and thank goodness as well for the relief i feel as it conitunes on…the syrup dawn is a beautiful image to end on…

  4. The glint of gold in a new dawn….a want for new beginnings? For change? For peace? Respite? I really felt a ‘tiredness’ in this (not your words! Your words are not tired!)…. But just sensed that ‘walking through treacle’ feeling….the frustration, short temperedness, all of which seem as a result of….something….I’m thinking I might have an inkling what it might be….that syrup dawn? It will happen…..knowing you, you’ll make it happen….cool poem – relate to it a lot

    • Ooooh tired is certainly at the centre of this, lots of layers of tiredness this week both physical, mental and emotional! I am always impressed that you are able to pin point the unwritten words like you were sitting in my head. You are either very insightful, secretly stalking me 😉 or I am really bad at weaving my private thoughts into my poetry! Thanks Stu 🙂

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