I've decided to share an old open poem I wrote sometime in 2007. It's called 'Belly of the Beast'
I catch her look piercing my eyes, this quivering feeling all the way to my thighs. The bone is dropped from my back ... its telling me he's here, he's about to attack,
I turn for the exit and run, all intentions - lost and undone. My body isn't here for this - no feeling, nothing to show; my inner spirit isn't up for this, what is she feeling? I can't know.
I think I've come too far down here - all is collapsing in, I don't know what I'm doing here, I've got to leave - the hungry black beast spills in.
His belly the only place for this, the only place I know. Calling out in echoes of silence, no place of shelter, nothing, "no!" Deep down inside of me a place that cannot be seen, I trip into a hole sometimes, traps set long ago by someone – namely me.
It happens without warning, the beast is let off his leash. I never know when he's hungry, his tummy is churning. Sinking into my world now, no control, no place, I am digested and broken down, into this whirl-pool I drown. Like the belly of the beast the story goes, this cliché, this hollowness, without shape how can I grow? How can I leave this place without all of me? I need to suck it all in before I fall, before I can leave, before I can let go just to breathe.
But it happens here every time, all progress erased away, her depths like an ocean's swallow me whole, lurking the floor he smells his prey.
In his belly this air so thickened and stale no colour, so dark, my instincts fail. I want to leave this rotten place; I've been trying to get myself together. But something is missing, what that is I don't know. It’s so hard to see in here, to feel free to be, it’s so hard without all of me. So round and round I go - feeding his belly, my outline fades - all is let go.
I turn for the exit and run, all intentions - lost and undone. My body isn't here for this - no feeling, nothing to show; my inner spirit isn't up for this, what is she feeling? I can't know.
I think I've come too far down here - all is collapsing in, I don't know what I'm doing here, I've got to leave - the hungry black beast spills in.
His belly the only place for this, the only place I know. Calling out in echoes of silence, no place of shelter, nothing, "no!" Deep down inside of me a place that cannot be seen, I trip into a hole sometimes, traps set long ago by someone – namely me.
It happens without warning, the beast is let off his leash. I never know when he's hungry, his tummy is churning. Sinking into my world now, no control, no place, I am digested and broken down, into this whirl-pool I drown. Like the belly of the beast the story goes, this cliché, this hollowness, without shape how can I grow? How can I leave this place without all of me? I need to suck it all in before I fall, before I can leave, before I can let go just to breathe.
But it happens here every time, all progress erased away, her depths like an ocean's swallow me whole, lurking the floor he smells his prey.
In his belly this air so thickened and stale no colour, so dark, my instincts fail. I want to leave this rotten place; I've been trying to get myself together. But something is missing, what that is I don't know. It’s so hard to see in here, to feel free to be, it’s so hard without all of me. So round and round I go - feeding his belly, my outline fades - all is let go.
