My Madness...An experiment in Automatic Writing?

I was taken on a journey,


In the day of the moon.


Light, fantastic; night gone;


Lost in the drapery of the sight.


Writhing in the earth,


Its cool wet fingers strangling the skin,


Licking, melting, melding me.


Sky, ocean blue, craving what it can not have;


A flash of flesh amidst the worms,


Not knowing the intelligence touched.


There is no sun in this zone that’s torn;


This sliding plane between the blues and browns.


Earth and sky dancing for me,


Each one winning and losing me.


Sliding through the grass, riding on the stone,


Closer to the sky, struggling alone?


No, there’re tiny fingers reaching, pulling,


Each their own way, away from me,


Riding the wind above and the waters below.


Such strange sights I’ve never seen,


Well, maybe once or twice, though I swear,


It wasn’t me.


One with entirety, swimming all around,


It’s clawing eyes of conflict tearing at my soul,


Forcing me to look and see within its veil.


How strange this voyage is,


Revealing Things not known.


The angels without, which pointed the way,


Smiled, unlocked the doors and waved good-bye.


Alone, I travelled, but not alone,


For those who lead, lead themselves,


Through worlds of their own,


In rains and suns which teased their way,


Into fantasies and realities,


Which could only boggle the senses,


Of plainclothes rabbits.


Clear path ahead lined with traps and trips,


Begging for the thought of the dead and dying,


Grasping flowers through lead grey suits,


With withering bones meant for tea.


Lightening eyes closed tightly with the weight of tears,


Dreaming of worms which rise to breathe,


The tasty flesh of children’s hearts.


The crossing gaze of lizards lying, wilting,


In the garden grove, blinded by the blue,


Which lies in grass, drifting to the grey.


But slate is slipping into the seas,


Mocking colors and days in haze,


Where beetles climb twirling ropes,


Dangling above stones, no actually - gravel.


Why it’s there is only to feel nothing but


Dragon’s feet, tip toeing on steely, dark red nails.


When asking for directions, go your own way.


I think I’ll just follow the moon


And maybe take a few notes.

My Madness...An experiment in Automatic Writing?
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