There’s
a secret
at the bottom of my
garden
a secret
at the bottom of my
garden.
And what might its nature be?
We’re
not supposed to be here
and
he met her again
(you
cannot plan for everything)
but
to come face
to face
with
your past
now
that’s
a fearsome thing.
The
greens are new
[and]
The nature of a crime scene
Demands it must be rewound
an hour at least
but nothing will ever explain
the gaping hole in her chest
where a heart once beat.
Tell me
more about the secret
at the
bottom of your garden
the wall
at the end of the world
the place
where he says what
he
doesn’t mean
and she
remains in the dark
her
gaping hole an invisible mark.
The place
where breasts are unveiled
and hearts raced
and
he knew he had someone else
but for a moment
didn’t care
the beauty of a new garden
was better fare.
(the nature of the beast)
Its
called duplicity
that
garden named Clandestine
Covered
so deep
ripe with
worm infested soil:
tilled
with sorrows
of partial disclosure
and lime of lies
even the
gardener turned away
from
shivering leaves
laden
with secrets.
Come my
dear,
It’s time
now
you need
to fight back
but
there’s a
better way
[where
peace awaits
the years
of travel]
I cannot intervene
but
books can
teach your heart
a history
of the world
your
history
a key to
freedom.
The
years still rolled
it’s
their nature.
the
letters and lessons still came
do
you think I have forgotten about you?
Never
once did he reveal
those
that undermined
the
supreme art of war:
to
defeat the enemy without fighting
a
red covered book
Its
truly yours truly
because
you waited
and
steel bars were never a cage.
my
heart
breaks
and
waters the ground with my sorrow
Nature,
ready
to drown.
So
tell me the secret
behind
the secret
at
the bottom of your garden?
you may
be sorry
it’s a
human emotional bonfire
she’s
setting the world alight
not
counting on any to disrupt her.
I
couldn’t wait
that
energy
what’s
happening?
staring
at this before my eyes:
the
true nature of his treasure.
It’s
the truth
and
no one likes it.
the
channels flow
and
things melt when
you
TAKE
what
you want
do you
love me?
who is
the We?
what do
you say?
the
static touch
and there
we were again
trapped
behind
the illusions
trying to
break free
AGAIN
and
again
the
same story
a
different ending:
always
a different ending.
Aleatory Poetry by Cheryl Penn, written for a collaboration on http://collaborative-artists-books.blogspot.co.za
February 2017.
Set of 8 unique artists books and 4 unique
chapbooks. Spine: The Authentic Massacre of the Innocent Image series, painting
# 105. Mixed media on Mtheni Board.
