Lake Side.

I let go of another feather,
into the winds as if the birds take flight again,
as it drifts out into the distance,
I let go of the tensions,
I’ve created in my mistakes that have taken place due to my incompetence,
the stubbornness is a stressful mess,
I am trying to comprehend why I don’t save my documents,
I’ve learnt from from times I’ve lost them in the past of tense,
hours of work to finish and feel accomplished,
then drop them into the garbage can.

A lack of sleep,
spent all night editing through the yawns,
drawn was a picture to never find and audience,
awoke on a morning glorious,
to find my words had escape the clutches of my hard drive accordingly,
left it open, battery flat, wasn’t paying too much attention,
don’t really know what I did,
all I know I can’t find it in my back ups,
tragic, and end to a chapter,
I must maintain my belief and shit just happens,
maybe it wasn’t meant to rise from the filing cabinet.

three days by the lake side,
three days I gave away I bled my heart and stained the paper,
three days of getting high and writing,
trying to tap into the insights of my mind and write this for the writer,
its these days I feel lazy,
and need to come back to my poems where this began to calm the crazy,
basically a form of meditation,
instead of holding in,
I release dreams with my pen,
curse my words in calligraphy.

As my headache eases,
I forgot the reason I slumped back into bed and ignored the seasonal fruit muesli,
didn’t need to feed myself at all,
already full on food for thought,
on the course of a full recovery,
up and out the door,
from the gutter to the core,
the piece of writings gone,
I need to let it go,
After this poem I’ll write a better one,

what’s one more day sitting on my ass,
by the Lake side.

Matt x


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