Hanging around - stanzas

2006-09-17T18:36:00.000-07:00

When hanging from the rafters, I feel free.
Though blind, I can see.
Power flows through me
Zapping my ability.

It pulls at the middle,
hooks just a little.
Tied up and speechless,
relief in my reach, less.

I’m nearing the point of record
Feel it? It’s wicked.
Hanging out like I’m twelve,
out in the open, I am myself.

Bare and open for the world to see,
behind the doors completely,
spinning helplessly.

It hurts some.
Sometimes it’s dumb.
But I’ve never known it would come
around like it does when numb.
Yum.

It feels like a stabbing knife,
grabbing life.
Like out of control and helpless,
I wish I could scream, less.

Restraints and complaints
of pain in my brain,
displeasure-countered pleasure
at my leisure.

For four and twenty
hanging around plenty.
For more than ten,
a shocking zen.

This latest is a violation
a skinned sensation
Entering and departing,
restarting the smarting.

I wish it could be shared
with those that cared.
A tensile crest,
a no-intelligence test,
figured on my day of rest,
an expressed request.
A possessed pest,
an unwelcome guest.

An eagle spread
Inseparate from the bed
Waiting with dread
For the time to click ahead

For the minutes I lay and bare it
Grit my teeth and swear it
Squeeze my eyes shut and elsewhere it
Against the ties, I despair it

It tails on for five and one
The members feel stunned
an intended pun
and a shock to system.

It ends a minute later
Then I’m breathing a little straighter
For sixty seconds I play waiter
For like a little traitor,
The grip will grow greater
Making members to gyrator.

For the minutes I lay and bare it
Grit my teeth and swear it
Squeeze my eyes shut and elsewhere it
Against the ties, I despair it

It ends a minute later
Then I’m breathing a little straighter
For sixty seconds I play waiter
For like a little traitor,
The grip will grow greater
Making members to gyrator

It rears its ugly head
hiding under bed,
popping out when no one’s there
making me prepare
for the chair.

It’s unknown to me why
I feel I must fly
Tethered and wired
higher and higher

Go for a half hour
Draining the power
Recharging with power
from the rafters, I feel free.

Out of control,
risking my soul,
takes over my whole,
invading my role

Making the pain
hard to sustain
again, again, and again
it’s hard to explain
it’s not humane.