they wanted my eyes

they wanted to see what I had seen

they longed to see what I had seen

to know how I laid bare my step

on sugar path

on foaming hill

in raging twist

against the wind

to throw my stones across the land

to walk, as I, deluded

 

there was a house of wood and stone

a sign outside

its name, my dream

and know not I why this I saw

scratched in by nails

fingers raw

read “Myre’s Mire”

bloodied

 

within that house lived all the world

lived everyone who’d ever lived

breathed everyone who’d ever breathed

and wait, they sat in harmony

while I, outside

dare not go in

was I outside mistakenly?

 

they wanted my eyes

they wanted to see what I had seen

and all the creatures they’d become

could walk, as I, elated

 

 

 

 

 

***

 

Myre’s Mire

poetry by Clive Culverhouse

 

 

Why Myre’s Mire? What does that mean?

I have no idea. I had a dream one night and in that dream was a house built of wood and stone. A long driveway led up to the house. At the beginning of the driveway was a wooden sign with scratched lettering carved into it. The sign read Myre’s Mire.

As I slowly approached the house, I felt the house had a great many people inside it. A voice accompanied, repeatedly saying “We need his eyes, we want his eyes.”

 

Make of that what you will.

 

***