Burning Question

Featured art by Karol Bąk

Listen to Burning Question by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Logos 2014 by Tangerine Dream

We don’t belong to anything
To anyone
We answer to the call of only one
Our choices are our own to make
Our rules alone to dare to break
Our lives dethroned of cruel dictate
Once we locate the place where we belong

As long as a piece of string
Fresh as the cedar spring
Once we approve
Begin doing the decent thing
Look at our recent trips
Share where they lead
Care to see clean through the woods to the trees
Retrace each step
And with faith
The persuasion dead skin to shed free

Where we are headed
Is our path to venture
Our choice in condoning our own misadventure
To be wild and free
Our rights only to waiver
Once we slacken reins on draining patterns of behaviour

Our brains are the most intricate machinery
Our gardens home to individual greenery
Should we fixate on thievery
Then thieves are all we see
And suddenly the scenery becomes a salty sea
Drowning in self-loathing
Which we crown through juxtaposing
The same victory proposing as defeat

Beating down the brows of those whose frowns compose our fleet
Information overloaded owed to bleak receipt
Boarding the ghost train
When hosted pain is indiscreet
Hopes of breaking chains are most petite

We don’t belong to anything
To anyone
We answer to the call of only one
Our choices are our own to make
Our rules alone to dare to break
Our lives dethroned of cruel dictate
Once we locate the place where we belong

Deep behind the grate
Lies a labyrinth to navigate
Ten thousand wires to calibrate
One hall of fame esteemed
For herein frames the masterpieces
Long estranged from hearts that beat and we reclaim their essence when our arteries remembrance we bleed
Less we toss the towel in and concede

The gown we wear
The air we breathe
Is ours declared
Through fair belief
That we can be the ideal we were spared to be
Once we repair the damages we tend to bear unbearably

Force of habit snags us in the brambles of retreat
Surrendered to the embers as the flame within concedes
Beggaring belief with vagrant sword implored to cleave
When there is more to life aside to pride than death’s decree

We may well see perceptively
When others we perceive
Yet some way less effectively compelled to self-critique
Seeking for answers
We can further learn suggestion
If only we can pose the burning question

Turning worms can top the soil
When learned of verse unlocked of spoil
For every caterpillar
There’s a butterfly absconding foil
We don’t belong to anything
To anyone but selves
And we need not be so unjustly thrust on dusty shelves
Winds shall bluster
Dull our lustre
Turning guts
We learn to trust them
Intuition steeps provision
Once entreated inner vision
Suddenly the scenery repeats free speech of favour famed in throng
Once we locate the place where we belong

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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    1. I love that you pull so much encouragement from my words. As you know Mouse, my deepest heart is invested into sharing every beat of me through art. Watched an extroardinary true story the other night called The Man Who Knew Infinity (On BBC iPlayer) about a mathematician called Srinivasa Ramanujan. He had no choice but to create, only with numbers as opposed to words. As you also know, my relationship with numbers has greatly lessened since becoming a writer. To give my all to celebrating spoken word, my brain had to relieve the ability to calculate sums I would never have struggled with before now.

      I guess it’s like a muscle I no longer have time to exercise. However, this film likened his relationship with infinite numbers to a painting on canvas. Every digit being a colour as such, a brush stroke.

      I have been blessed with a gift even I cannot entirely fathom and would never wish to. Through my art, I can be with the listener every day, in an infinite number of ways. And that is very deepest dream coming true right there. Just that.

      I love you Mouse. I love my brother Bernie Lion. And I owe so much of the unseverable heart it takes to do what I do to simply being seen. That’s true stardom to me 🌳

      1. That film sounds like a must-see and the no choice but to create is definitely burned into your soul.

        You’re like a resilient happy yellow dandelion. You bloom, release your work at a phenomenal level and each seed is eternally planted. Dandelions are wonderfully determined and Dandelion by The Rolling Stones is one of my favourite psychedelic rock songs 🌼

        We love you too and Bernie is constantly blown away by your words 🦁🐭🦁

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