RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Monday, January 21

freestyle sonnet #9

trauma clenches upon neck muscles - iron grip
of tension, slow boiling stress conditions plus quick
strikes of accidents complement fight-or-flight trip
of ancient brain chemistry; one slips into thick
cranio-sacral congestion hard to unwork,
hard to re-wire survivor thought process ingrained
in unconscious brain's mechanisms, built by jerk
against the unsure flows of chaos life sustained,
which is mostly better than the alternatives,
as no other life is promised, thus another day
will have to suffice, repelling superlatives
as well-defined white matter is slowly turned gray;
born as the uncarved block to suffer existence -
to keep existing is to offer resistance.

1 comment:

Mike Porkchops said...

Beautiful resistance.

Here's something back at ya.

i'm feeling dry as bones
promise me one thing
don't bury me 'neath no stone
and if the kids wanna sing, let 'em sing
angels got buffalo wings and pitchers of beer
a little warm for my tastes
the blood on my lips the same as the blood between your hips
born covered in blood & screaming that's our fate
orgasm, earthquake
friction between teutonic plates
some apes hang tough to a ball of sediment
that is floating flotsam in outer space
friends come by and we drink cheap beer in my apartment
my late father's Lincoln ain't transportation
'tis a graveyard for my dents
in olden days we were horse lords on the high plains
beautiful, powerful and strange
some things never change
sent the kids to school in cured animal pelts
how did the other kids make you feel my starlit darlings?
“We never felt ashamed, for we knew.
The hawk sings not the song of the starling.
Always will we be beautiful, honest and true.”

Keep it up old man.