Nomad

Nomad

 
A Nomad is never lost.
 Maybe just wandered off.. 
I simply hitched a ride on a nomadic breeze .....
 
"Cogito Ergo Sum Pati"
 
The roaming wanderer, as it were_
...I am
 
 
With no intended course of destination in mind,
it turns.
 
Half my life in the dark it most assuredly seemed. ;)
 
By thoughts given in to the calibrating of oblivion and the consideration of worn out souls
 
I Am a Nomad
And so I roam.
 
 
Not knowing, or even put to thinkable status of where this road may lead, or what might be blocking my path as I seek the end and what mystery may be there when I get to it, if I even do
I wonder
 
And wander, I do
 
Down every desolate path in precision in slight of sight,
a sacrificial search of heaven,
... or hells next pre planned crossroad in my life,
 
Endlessly seeking the shamelessly searching, that confounded, screaming supposed soul, I sold
 
Perpetually and so, in vain
No doubt
 
Sold that thing a lifetime ago, last lifetime to be exact, not so sure I want it back,
it was plum worn out and the toes had holes worn into them too,
I felt everything stepped into,
Every damn bit
 
EVERYTHING, felt like shit,
Slithering between my toes,
Cold,
and slimy,
and gross

..like wading through mutilated flesh, one every kind
Can’t forget the feel, it’s always at the back of my mind
But once in a blue moon… nope, still don’t
But,
Every now and then,
I stumble across and eventually step onto
a shard of the sharp side of my shattered remembrance of what's inside this old souls splintery life
 
Guess what? Somewhere I’m soft, and  I still bleed.
 
I still feel all the pain from the from-underside of things,
…. as it were.
 
Looking up from this long cold road of dust.
 
Once, I sat a spell to ponder
And I've even slept a few times, for good measure, though I don't recall the where or when
 
Just as the night is as black as hell before light of day, I feel, I feel it all, it never ends
 
Why me?, this vagabond of ill gotten feet in my mind
What makes this gallivanter so worthy of having not one but two of such,
which are also so fully functioning?
Surreal at times.. one big continual acid trippish foot trail just inside the other,
Sometimes though  as vertigo's nightmare, we all have one inside, things included.
 
 
Sometimes there just are no answers so I just close my eyes
...forever I go seeking and sometimes if  by chance I find,
an answer? Maybe
Not often to satisfaction though, so I continue again and down this road  I  go
 
Doomed I am , of a cursed shuffling about inside the blurred visions of yesterdays rancid deja vu on a loop
Hot, humid and dry to the taste buds.
Lacking flavor only within the bloody cracks
of this dry lipped mouth on my face, parched
 
Full of dust
 
Under every rock I lift,
and just behind the tumble weed that pass,
...I see my track
...already been, and been back
 
Slate breadcrumbs, imagine that
Damned the luck
petrified in time
 
So what confounded, dark alleys magistrate must I?
 
Of what concocted high courts counsel should I plea, just to find the ear I must bend to hear my voice,
somewhere that a man in charge might hear, or at least bend ear so that I make take a knee,
upon this road of blowing dust and whisper there, my pleas?
 
I would like for Him to hear my words,
I have only four, the number denotes the earth side of man anyhow...
So here they are,..
 
I do not approve
Yeah, yeah, so what!
 
And still the demons continue to do as they please,
Now don’t they?
Never have had much luck, so as a nomad I guess I'm stuck,
for the  length of the road down another day beneath these feet upon my way
 
I just want to give these never ending feet back
rest my soul/soles
In quieted still peace for a while then, maybe.
Hell I don't know.
Its a thought among many on this long and lonely winding road
Alone is the way in the mind of a nomad
And so I think and suffer as I go,
Perpetually, by myself
and so inside the life
 
Suffering a flattened foot and print upon my path,
down this road and then right back, continuously, just like a broken record of yesteryear
 
Its what I do, it's who I am
 Damned if I'm not, I sure the he'll am.. Ughhhh
An aliped wayfarer,
So amoral my soul,
It's best i be, bested...alone,
For... 
   I am a nomad,
and so
,...I roam
 

©K§~2016

for CEY.  wink*