thrown into or carefully placed
to sink or swim you can’t
figure out whether to wade
or walk upon these waves
of mystery and missed fortune—
who can tell what flies
out the window and into
your brainwaves? how do you
carry all this drowning in destiny?
you try wrapping it up
but it only brings you down
the monsters seem familiar
but where have you seen
those faces before and why
are there so many of you? each
with its own refusal its own cuts
and rearrangements of the narrative
you have lost in the multitude
of channels and static that keeps
trying to tell you what
you don’t want to hear—all this
motion drains your energy
you wish you could become
the water instead
of being layered flat
over its rocking curves–
nearby you think you can
see the desert, thirsty,
a voracious patch of fire
and land but you know
it will not welcome you it
will not open for a solid
form even an imagined one
again and again you look
for the part of you that will
hold all those hands, that will
gather the waiting cries into one
sound riding the waves until
they tire of the fruitless weight–
all these journeys into the continuous
restructuring of what is unknown–
turn around a voice repeats
inside each of your weary minds—
the corner is just around the bend
At earthweal this week Brendan has asked us to consider “our wild dark brains”.
K. 
Indeed, how???
This is longer than many of your pieces, Kerfe – and you somehow packed every stanza full of amazing imagery and concepts. I am very duly impressed – I love it.
❤
David
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks David. I’m not sure where it came from, but then I feel that way about a lot of my work.
LikeLike
Really? Interesting
LikeLiked by 1 person
Do you know where you’re going when you start something? At best, I only have a vague idea. Often nothing more than an impulse to make something and the materials at hand. Even when I had assigned work with restrictions, I was often surprised by the result.
LikeLiked by 1 person
that does happen to me quite often, actually – but sometimes I manage to stick to my original concept! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think you would be better at it than I am. You seem much more focused.
LikeLike
This is visually dense and verbally layered. I love every part of it!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Muri. Everything but the kitchen sink.
LikeLike
I’ve read it twice and will read it again and again. It takes a core sample and analyzes it with the finest instruments of intangible discernment. I love your accompanying collage as well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Jade. This is a collage I’ve done many variations of. I’m not sure where the words came from but they fit somehow.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome, K.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You have taken us on a wild ride, a tidal wave of brain waves.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Jane. My thought processes are a mystery to me.
LikeLike
I’ve been plagued by migraines for the last few weeks. It must be stress, can’t think of any other reason, and it really messes my head up. Your poem seemed pretty accurate.
LikeLiked by 1 person
If you’re paying attention to the world, your head has to be messed up right now I think. But migraines can only make it more intense.
LikeLike
Migraines make the sickness worse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s an amazing collage, Kerfe, and a great poetic response to the challenge!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Ingrid. Brendan always makes us think.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The first time in ages I haven’t taken part, but I needed a break!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know what you mean. You have to take care of yourself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I see the kitchen sink in there too, rinsing the veggies lost in the whirl. A mind trying to take in everything now happening at once is surely in peril, and this captures perfectly the vertigo of a mind adrift in its storm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Brendan. Adrift is exactly right–the entire world.
LikeLike
I keep coming back to read this one, there are so many intriguing lines (the last a classic). The penultimate stanza seems to perfectly capture the phenomenon of resonating fiercely with a poem without fully grasping why. You almost expect it not to be there when you return to it, but there it is, the same astonishing, unsettling Sphinx.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Sun. This was a gift from somewhere beyond.
LikeLiked by 1 person