S O L I T U D E

“being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.” ~ Charles Bukowski, Women
~
allowing
anointment of spirit
I let canned soul
stirring mantra
chants enchant
~
solitude is all it’s cracked
up to be…an oasis of one
being at one with one
yet something is
still missing..
~
long airy floor-through
has seen me through
countless soul strolls
brisk walking…blank stares
into space in its’ space….
~
prized Venetian mask
adorning forward looking
wall, impassively glances
winking at me from sightless
sockets…. derisively?
~
smattering of bereft empty-headed
warm cool berets, beanies, hats
in varied shapes, weaves
shades vacantly stare
at ceiling nowadays…
~
murder of crows
harbingers of ill tidings
had visited marking passage
of each decade with family
herd’s thinning..
~
shoulder blades, painfully
blade marking abandonment
by two sole.. elder siblings
who’ve opted for pain-free
other-worldly shores
~
metaphorically
standing at milling life’s
forked road I come to terms
with “now” life, willing self
to make sanguine choices
~
“being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.” ~ Charles Bukowski, Women
~
Photo by Georgian artist Tezi Gabunia’s interactive project “Falsification” ain’t Photoshopped.

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