off the grid

off the grid

A Poem by RuseInex
"

sometimes the soul doesn't want to be rescued

"

coffee pot galvanized midnight blue with specks 

white chipped enamel its cylinder body's flecks

sits on wood burning cast iron stove stoic 

its protruding spout touts caffeine elixir rush

intoxicating aroma for old time peculator, 

simple strainer nostalgia, metallic seive and tube

hot water physics brews the beans,

high tech stuff in rustic back woods cabin


stove stoked with split oak wood, 

gnarled, twisted dry, takes work, 

steel splitter, sledge hammer love hate relationship

peaks and lows, brutal blows, manual holds

back breaking grips, combustion's heat


sequoia forest beauty negates fatigue's drain by pain

snow drifts nine feet thick, 

as is my head feels now, last night's bourbon's hits 

heart to hearths talk with the fire

me and she, my fiery flickering seductive friend

warms to heat my cold cheeks, speaks mesmerizes

incites delight, dreamy pleaures her undulating hips

her licking, crackling lips, she speaks and whispers 

soft secret talks, deep as the drifts outside


gonna snow again tonight, silver clouds' tenacity

six pointed wonders of crystal ice,

light as feathers frail, moonlight shining through

cigar smoke dreamy blue, rising gossamer wisp delicate evokes;

is there a new york, a los angeles, out there?

are there such things as war and crime

busy city streets, congested littered , roads, haphazard cracks,

razorwire, drunken telephone poles' wires, sirens' manic panic,

1001 cable shows and nothin' on?


this cabin, my womb, 

outside snow ceaseless falls

are there planets called saturn, mars, pluto dwarf,

galaxies, endless cosmic space?


the blizzard's gonna hit sometime this week

i'll be socked in for a week or more

let it be a month and more, 

snow drifts bury me under 25 feet, cocooned 

my blood will flow hot, claustrophobic trapped 

stoic scared my heart will thump 

self contained suffocated isolation

transfixed betwixt fear of death and regeneration

verges edge of asphixiation

 

i'll keep the stove stoked, in the meantime,

door unbolted, exit entrance path unobstructed

shovel's travail, pleas' respite serves no avail

the roof is pitched 45 degrees slant, 

with snow so thick weight's tonnage could collapse 

my body will not escape this trap

my heart will not try

my soul does not care

© 2016 RuseInex


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Added on March 13, 2016
Last Updated on March 13, 2016

Author

RuseInex
RuseInex

Fresno, CA



About
I was born in obscurity Outside a small country town’s limits In a plank shack I kept a few memories That come into my head That i still carry around That i visit now and then The dust .. more..

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