07-28-2025, 04:14 PM
I want to break it, the ever galloping horse of fear
i can but tremble, as his breath draws nearer
overcome by his rancid stench i crawl in terror,
only to fall in the black gulch of guilt, enfeebled
cocooned in an old stained jacket poorly needled
in its sleeves, hide all the shadows left ungreeted
deep down there in the gulch of gulches i see,
an old door half off its hinges, covered in bees
i walk through the honey door and all is clear
That's your direction.
Center the poem with that stanza and let what comes before and after it hinge on it, cutting everything and adding anything like two arrows, one pointing up to it and one pointing down to it, living to serve that center.
i can but tremble, as his breath draws nearer
overcome by his rancid stench i crawl in terror,
only to fall in the black gulch of guilt, enfeebled
cocooned in an old stained jacket poorly needled
in its sleeves, hide all the shadows left ungreeted
deep down there in the gulch of gulches i see,
an old door half off its hinges, covered in bees
i walk through the honey door and all is clear
That's your direction.
Center the poem with that stanza and let what comes before and after it hinge on it, cutting everything and adding anything like two arrows, one pointing up to it and one pointing down to it, living to serve that center.