the thread

hanging, hanging
by a single thread
invisible like spider silk
maybe strong too

the cobwebs have found me
now wrapped all around me
i clearly see a distorted world
in this beautiful, beautiful dream

hanging in this semi-darkness
i wait for the spiders
to come and eat me free
make a happy meal out of me

shrouded in this elemental fog
judgment shred to pieces
i am whole in my silken cocoon
hanging by a thread from the moon

the tides come and go
waves far away, yet so close
so i listen and i listen in my spectacular prison
and despite myself, i smile
(i always smile)

for the thread is of my making
i spun this web all around me
limbs stretched apart, crucified
i am the spider on a cross
and i wait
for myself

----
This is about how you build your own prison and how only you can set yourself free. But there is always the wait and you've to make it through. It's also about insanity and roland mcdonald. How does that fit in? Figure it out.

I almost left it at fourth paragraph, but the last two just flashed in front of my eyes, had to get them out. I think they give a different flavor to the whole poem. This could have had a tighter rhyme, but it's got a certain rhythm. I know I'll see the typos once I hit publish.

The Sadness of Company

I sit with you, you sit with me
We talk of things that we can't see
Of Love, Life, Pain and people and misery
It all starts and ends at you and me

You stare at the invisible world behind my shoulder
Where pink unicorns copulate with teddy bears
Your mouth runs on automatic spilling the beans
And I stare at the world behind your back

Your hands weave spider webs in the air
I'd follow them if only I could care
You said I listen well so that's what I do
You pay for the coffee and I'll always listen to you

And now that the diatribe is done and gone
The coffee mugs are empty all the words have been spoken
Still there is some dirge left to talk of
And you call me for company again next weekend.

-=-=-=-=

People who like to talk