The Rambling Man

Still looking for the words,

You know,

The ones I promised you last week,

The words to counter what I said before,

But all I find I’m doing,

Is rambling.

All I see inside my head,

A kaleidoscope of words,

And endless scrolling dictionary,

An encyclopedia of colours,

And here I go again,

I’m rambling.

I see a tumbling waterfall,

Chased by unicorns in blue,

I see Byzantium in the distance,

With it’s towering minarets

And there I go again,

Just rambling.

Great scripts form, at once collapse,

Dismembered by their rhythm,

Become a caricature of chaos,

Turning back once more upon themselves

Disintegrate in carbon,

On and on the rambling

Four times I’ve begun this piece,

Four times the world’s erupted,

Four times I’ve lost myself in time,

Four times I’ve arrived at nowhere

And here I am,

Still rambling

And on and on it goes,

In circles of perpetuity,

Cycling up hills that never end

Chasing tigers with no tail,

Right there, that sentence proves my point.

I’m rambling.

And so I ramble ever more,

Eventually, the words will come,

I’ll keep that promise that I made,

I’ll write that piece that I once promised,

But for now there’s nothing left to do,

But ramble.

© Fergus Martin

Aug 2013