Częstochowa, Poland’s abandoned train depot – http://www.buzzfeed.com/awesomer/the-33-most-beautiful-abandoned-places-in-the-world

Reminded me of a poem unfinished, or maybe it is done…

One of my favourite pieces, that I couldn’t continue for fear of fucking it up!

***

Writing the sound track to my day dreams,
I come across a hidden track,
it’s lines drawn black,
beneath,
wires crossed.

As though musical notes,
my very brain,
knew too much.

It crossed time zones,
through skin,
to these very bones.

The knowledge it held,
bass beats bold,
the rhythm of a heart beat,
like a history of life’s meaning,
told.

Listening deep,
comprehending the giant leap across worlds,
of dreams and a reality foretold.

The stitches of meaning,
woven tightly,
across a wound of unforgotten lessons.

The questions picked open.

Scabs remembering to heal.

Deeper into the track,
heavier the beats,
moving emotions into piles and heaps.

A process of sorting,
shifting energy into meanings.

Rhythms swaying,
hypnotic like those inner thoughts betraying.

Nails bitten to the quick,
choices made through the inner voice of conflict.

The beats slow down,
subsiding to that soft sound,
of a lulled understanding and recognition,
of what I, myself, demand.

The dreams of tomorrow,
fuel the beats of today,
like tracks for trains,
and this very song that plays deep in my brain.