Morphing

It is all in the facial expressions
Unlocked
Opened
Mutating
Tell me all your secrets
Without saying a word
The trigger is pulled
No way back

It is all in how the soul flutters
Forwarded
Charged
Morphing
Tell me all your secrets
Without breaking a promise
The poison is consumed
No way back

(c) Marc Noël 2016

TBT: Nightkeeping (2001)

After she came back
She could not hold my hand
If I were the creator
This I could not stand

My evaluation, abandonment
Choose and make it right
If I were the keeper
The day and the night

(c) Marc Noël 2001

Refinement

The effect of the dull
Is obvious
To missed opportunities-
As opposed to the appeal
Of getting lost,
Running away
From those who cull

The timing of the juncture
Is obvious
To forgetful regrets-
As opposed to the appeal
Of refined style,
Trying to find
Any remnants of culture

(c) Marc Noël 2016

TBT: Endurance (2008)

I was wondering what my ancestors
Would say to me
If I asked them why
People suffered so much-

With deep meditation
I looked for answers
Within my past
Within my soul
But found none
That brought me closure-

So I went to bed
And there I wept
Until I had fell asleep-

And in my dreams
I found a vision-

People spend too much time
Looking for answers-
Not for solutions

Dedicated to Emily Dickinson
(c) Marc Noël 2008

Looking At The Ceiling

I am never thinking
I don’t really understand
Touch it, live it
No pressure as I leave

I am never going
I don’t really get lost
Break it, face it
No pressure as I believe

I am never processing
I don’t really conclude
Close it, desire it
No pressure as I grieve

(c) Marc Noël 2016

TBT: I Stand Here Alone (2003)

I'm having trouble climbing the mountain of life.

The past beneath me is not fit to carry me to my future. The rocks under my feet barely sustain the burden of my soul.

I stand here alone, with legs that cannot move, with a mind that cannot believe. The energy within me is lost with the struggle. No more strength for the journey.

I try to listen to the voices telling me to make it on my own. I hear the silence of my individuality. For all the power that is given to me, no one hears me when I speak. I try to tell them I am too weak. They divide me too thin and then wonder why I am not seen.

I am prepared to become mean. However, at what point is the sentence more severe than the offense? If I cannot run, will the mountain consume me? I do not wish to be lost, I do not wish to be forgotten.

Perhaps if I were to be seen…

How can I be seen?...

(c) Marc Noël 2003