The abyss stares harshly
Back
at me
Just
like Nietzsche said
Tried
to climb the mountaintop
Now
I cling, slight slip
I’m
dead
You
pushed me forth
Up
to the peak but
Pushed
me off the ledge
Crimping
on my only hold
Into
manikin crack, fingers wedged
The
crag is cold
The
wind is harsh
The
altitude is steep
No
matter how hard I try
I
don’t understand
The
fate I’ve reaped
Rocks
crumble
Like
my spirit
Awash
in cascading scree
The
air is thin
I
cannot breath
Envious
of the trees
That
cling to cliff
With
little soil
Little
nurturing do they enjoy
I
should have so much more
In
this life – not possessions- but qualitative joy
As
I fall into the void
They
bend and withstand
Taoist
in their nature
Spiny
needles are blades to the brutal breezes
That
scorch and scour
Cut
and gouge raw the resilient rock
These
metamorphic walls
My
bloodied fingers can set me free; release-
Can’t
endure this futility
The
falling flight
Would
make me free
For
a final fatal moment
“We love life not because
We are used to
living but
Because we are
used to loving”
Is
what Nietzsche said
But
I am not a superman
Already
I feel dead
“No one can construct
For you
The bridge upon
which
Precisely you must
cross
The stream of
life,
No one
But yourself
Alone” said Fred
“Whatever is done for love
Always occurs
beyond
Good and evil”
But
it’s love or “love” that stranded me here
Clinging
for what,
I
don’t even know anymore
“One can promise actions,
But not feelings,
For the latter are
involuntary.
He who promises to
love forever,
Hate forever or be
forever faithful
To someone is
promising something
That is not in his
power”
Thus
Nietzsche spake
He
went mad, meandering mountain moraine and passage tracks
I
feel myself follow in his tread
Stepping
in shit, to where I now hang
And
cling and cry for reprieve
To
be relieved
Of
the heaviness flexing my fingers
And
pressuring waxy palms
Slipping,
scraped
and scabbed
Burned
by the glacial reflected sun
This
is all too familiar
Too
familiar
Too
familiar to me.
Edmonton, AB,
Canada
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