Wednesday, 11 February 2009

167. Books (Axl In Exile)

All the lights are out

save for a halogen lamp;

I sit in its cast circle

a halo searching for

an angel, cross-legged and

straight-backed I read Napoleon

Machiavelli, Sun Tzu

and a Bette Davies biog.

Devoid of drugs, love,

chaos or a schedule

I find solace in books

for the first time in my life.

Here for the first time is

a semblance of routine

a welcome discipline and

a wealth of knowledge

an insight into great minds to

remind I’m not alone

in my militant thinking, my

desire to lead from the front

written confirmation that my

strength is my weakness and my

weakness is my greatest asset

for it is that which makes us human.

Here, in the pages, I search for

answers but forget the questions

I keep a dictionary by my side

and learn a new word every day.

I trace the words with my finger

and I know my lips are moving

but there is no-one here

to see them, no-one to

break the silence that

for a few moments at least

seems finite, only for the

sun to then rise again

whereupon I will close my books

conclude my studies, my meditations

and step out from the circle

of light to stretch like a cat

then slowly pad my way to the boudoir

clicking the lamp off on the way.

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