My boy veers off adrift within the thought:
neither our fatherland can lift him up
nor force of mother earth can pull him down.
He’s moon bound to be a man not caught…
Command control out of sight out of ear
shot. The worst case of vertigo by ego,
he clings to stars for a semblance of self;
silence is loud that deafens tender year.
When nowhere fills up the now here to go,
new kicks pump that noise into heartless sole.
Rhythm beats the concrete to cushion its blow.
When lost in sound, reason can’t cajole.
He wanes and waxes his eyebrows to play
from crescent shapes gone in hunt of prey
To then hairy beast crying out in a howl
To feed what love was lost from primal bowel.
A child pulled from home, Man pushes this lad
from sleep but he runs away in orbit.
His lips light the night but driven by sad
when his rock claims to be metamorphic.
© 2018 RJ Wiechecki
Author: Rj Wiechecki
I am a writer, both poet and philosopher. I do works of philosophy through the medium of poetry. I also do commissioned work as a poet as a business.