How my sanity must be kept

How my sanity must be kept

By AD Hunt

The brightness from outside the window blinds my eyes with tears.
From the whispers and whiskers of the rolling moon
Caught by blistered blowing blast's of atmosphere;
To the pen that restlessly waits
As a thick throbbing muscle
Quaking between my thumb and forefingers;
I await the cracking engines which keep me in tune,
In the hope that my sanity could  be kept.

While musing upon death, I fight for life.
While children gay play, I scream and plead for age.
And in the sequence of data
Inserted I fight against a dive
For blistering rebirth;
In the hope that my sanity could be kept.

And in the hideous repetition of days,
Where bickering, blaming and screaming
Is kept within this permeable constant sea,
Of mown lawns tidy kitchens stable jobs and soft platitudes,
I restlessly sit contemplating hell
Within this shaded form of heaven,
In the desperate hope that my sanity could be kept.

I note the clasped hands of love
Watch the soft smiles
And their gruntled invitations
Through suggested inventions
Covered by verbal illustrations
Where tongues, and wet lipped kisses met.
Between laughs and Grimace's
And vaguely understood blundered misunderstood
Interest and or bewilderment,
I fight for a laugh in the hope that my sanity will be kept.

And as Zeus, the king of jews,
Blows forth his trumpet
At my window to rip away the skirt ,
What passes as a form of sanity
Desperately attempts to be kept.

©  adh 2015.

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