Doors

                                                             
I close the door onto my past, 
I let go of memories I wish to lose.
A barrier to protect my kindred souls of the present from the hardened souls of the past. 


I close the door onto the world, 
Worries belong to the streets. 
Piled up on the curb in heaps of grey mud-filled shoes taken off before entering hearths. 


I close the door onto a room,
I channel atmospheres and mould universes.
Enlarging, decreasing, freshening, spacing out, protecting myself or another from other spaces and their sounds. 


I close the door onto the sound,
Blocking it out of my soul.
Let the blues in when my feet are cold, let the pop in when my feet trample, rock when my body swings.


I close the door onto the light,
I close my eyes, my blinds. 
I shut the energy out of sight to rest, disturbance, to my evasion to the real of dreams. 


I close the door onto life
I shut down my heart. 
I let my blood tide away and settle down, my heart rest and stop, liberating my soul into a doorless world.


Technicolor poet