Internal** Poem by Neil Young

i. Womb


Here among the rocks, I sense a place
I can't recall, like some unconscious
Thought or feeling. Surfaces cool.They drape

Like fabric.So quiet, I hear a pulsing
In the ears.Standing still I feel I should
Lay down, curl up into myself.In that

Deep blush of my entombment, shades of light
Shift slowly.Now, I close my eyes and listen;
Dull sounds pump as I await my rebirth.



ii.Mouth


I look up from this open mouth of stone.
Like flames, its hot and thirsty tongue points out
Towards a thin blue cleft of cobalt sky.

A draught, a sudden deep intake of breath;
As long as those thin lips are opened wide,
I shall not suffocate.What am I here?

A spit of swallowed moisture caught within;
A voice, whose words are calcified, chewed up;
In this dry throat, a pill too hard to swallow?



iii.Bone


In times when we believed in God, our death
Was not intended; these parts of us wore masks
Of flesh and sinew, bones never to be seen.

But that's all finished now; old scriptures lie.
And here this phantom's mask, this pelvic bone
Exposed, copies us in weathered sandstone.

We crawl about like parasites, too late,
The flesh is gone.We learn to understand
How ego, fear compelled us to believe.