Nature

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.