Lacy MacAuley

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a home for my pen, projects, and passions

i loved this thing


A poem by Lacy MacAuley based on a near-death experience.

I don’t know what your perspective is
but it was real, real like bitterness boiled into inevitable medicine
stabbing and alive like broken bone on the nerve,
barely lucid and kicking for survival
rolling frantic like a horse down a hill.

Somehow the closeness to death
illuminates the points of my being
I wasn’t perfect and nothing is – but I was real
and I felt my life like a hundred orgasms and a thousand sunsets
a million lovers’ eyes penetrating my deepest self.
I was here, and dammit I tried.
I tried to live a true life
to swing from the uncertainties and jump and trust into this everything.

This real pain is a thousand times better
than the emotiveless of walking dead
and it rips out from my lungs through bared teeth – a great feline
ferocious, so stinging only because I was here in this body
I was here in this world, and I lived it
with the intensity of the point of a bull’s horn.
I charged it with all the weight that I possess,
to look searching into my weakness.

I loved this thing – these circus lights of color,
these drifting clouds, ideas, mottled motions, pricks of light,
and the slow growing things too.
This shifting sphere has been all,
and I have loved in guerilla warfare
and great marches to the sea.

I bleed now all the life blood this lover’s heart has pulled in,
pumping and growing strong like a revolution growing near.
My voice has bled the stones to throw
and my love grew larger,
so strong now that it burns this pain into me.
I will miss this wonderful thing, this love and pain,
this something.

I go now to, I think, nothingness…

Yet something euphoric creeps glowing from between the trees,
wise, flat footsteps, and surrounds me like an arched doorway.
The hot iron pain is strong, playing for me the music
that crashes around me, casting knives…
and then, the pain is a different music with no time.

Consciousness descends:
Bist du ausgeschlafen? Bist du ausgeschlafen?
Nein, no.

My eyes open, and I return to the dream.

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Filed under: lacy's life, poems, thoughts and philosophies

3 Responses

  1. Sheridan says:

    Great poem, Lacy! So glad you’re still with us!! 😀

  2. Oscar says:

    that was great, and i guess i loved this thing you made, thanks

  3. Douja says:

    Love this

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