Escalate.
Here’s a sneak peak of my lyrics/poetry.
The rhythm is rising.
The pace is enlarging.
The flow of the movement is ever evolving.
Where from do you come to?
Which up do you go down?
How long do green branches stay green till they go brown?
They turn till they’re knotted all twisted and rotten,
then how can you think when you know you’ve forgotten?
All of the noise and the things and the rain
that does flips and make marks and strike chords in your brain.
From this moment to next
from that there to this now,
where does one little thing turn to tumbling down?
To the pits of the lava,
the black in the void.
It just vanishes - gone - man I get so annoyed!
What I will say to you
is the fun and the tricks
that do sometimes waft in
when you’re falling to bits.
They will shimmer your stilts,
open up all the dams,
let the weightlessness into your wide-open hands
and for one out of ten
that box will suspend
and the beauty of that will come tumbling in.
Don’t be fooled by some nonsense
of short unforgivings
where many get stuck
holding onto beginnings.
The safety of one to the hole in another
is something that grabs at you way under cover.
You then go back hunting the road with the net
when you come back promising you will not forget
all the things on the way that will lead back to dot
when I knew all along I was losing the plot.
© Pia Wolanski
