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The Empire of the Primrose

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  Empire of the Primrose poem The city fell in a single night.  Holding it would take longer. So the painters were summoned,  and the saints on the walls were given his family's eyes. A bloodline was found for him,  older than the walls,  older than the kings who raised them. Now even the earth must forget it ever belonged to anyone else. The Empire of the Primrose - Station 1 Do you have recurring dreams? Travel Sketches by metamodernist artist JJFBbennett The cycle always resets at dusk, like waking inside the cold architecture of an unyielding, repetitive dream. I walk the wet, cobbled veins of an ancient European city, passing beneath stone arches hung with heavy, lifeless flags, heraldry drained of colour, damp cloth clinging to wooden poles like dead skin. There is no breath of wind, only the low, humming pressure of an era turning in its sleep. I reach into an iron sconce and tear loose a torch of roaring, ragged fire. The flame casts jittering amber shad...

Hole in the Wall: Pool Time



Hole in the Wall: Pool Time
I wanted to fly to another planet, but I first built this swimming pool.
My dreams just started getting away from me, and then I let them go.

In the heat of the day, I plunge into my pool.
My refreshing water.
I own it. I work for it.
When I'm tired of my thoughts I submerge into it.
When I'm confused and in panic, I fall gently into it.
I emerge feeling invigorated and comforted.
Continuation seems so easy once and only after submerging in my cool clear water.

My dreams to transform my life never eventuated.
I knew it once, when  I was promised myself to achieve.
I could aspire.
You never fail when you attempt to chase.

Somewhere I needed to reconcile between the obtainable haves and impossible wants.
Have I succumbed to failed by fabricating my mediocrity prison of pleasure?
Am I floating in falsehood
Am I wallowing in water of hindrance?
I built and tender to this my own 3-meter submersion of comfort.

In my moment before death, will my pool be there in easy memory?
Will it be replaced by morphine?
Will regrets of attainment hound me?.
Will I feel satisfied?
Will I discover what I was born for?

Whilst under water nothing eventuates.
I feel released.
Whilst under water the world passes me by.
I can just watch.
I feel contented.
I am no longer the wonder.
I am just here wanting to feel good.
In happiness for the now and in happiness for the tomorrow.








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