I am

I am an idea incarnate
a carnival of molecules
a stardust vessel.
I am manic, joy jiving
down my jugular.
I am the last day of term.
I am little.
I am a bungalow
in a suicide seaside town
where rays of silky light
rebound from the ocean
and pass through my net curtains.

I am protons and neutrons
and I am so like an electron
whizzing on an elliptical
eccentric path round the core of
the universe.

I am a fat wallet bulging with bullseyes
a fistful of wealth in a worldful of lies.
I am a change of clothes and a Unicorn's
coat, all velvet white, all bright.

I am the cloudbreak after a thunderstorm,
the leaves blocking the water in a drain
the pain of a city day
the end of each young life
needlessly lost.

I am dead, they took me to the cemetery
three days ago. The children couldn't hear me screaming from my grave, they just loved the concrete steps and walked on.
On the lonely spot where I left my life so stylishly,
some bouquets tied to the road railings
hang like limp lettuce.
I am decomposing, fading from memory.
I am gone.

I am alive.
On the dancefloor where I celebrate my being
a thousand ballerinas rise,
curling upwards as the lotus flowers unfold.
In the dense drunken forests where peacocks coo
I am human
I am that sacred thing.
I pray,
I bleed and I love.

I am a child; wonder from the eternal fire still glows fresh in my eyes. In the fruit trees of my father's garden, there is contentment.

I am all this and more.
I am all this and less;
those trips to a parched coastline,
a cold pint of extra.
I am here, and was there.
I am folly and drunk.
I am so sad sometimes.
I am longing embodied and
I am hope.
I am resentment and hurt.
I am pouring forth crimson.
I am the deep blend of tears and wet kisses.
I am you.