Without a Protocol

    Without a Protocol


The blue sun shines down 
like it did for millennia
Its striped rays slice a bewildered landscape 
of half memories and orphaned reality   
Stripes of alternating blue   
covers my land and time 
In absentia  
where time is collated and 
my land 
violated 
without a protocol 


Of which half is half memories?
The shade of blue which I cannot name
or the dark one that hides in shame 
Which half is true?  
Which half is blue?
They stare at me as equal
as dual
I stare back 
but without a measure
or a protocol
the verdict is cruel
and one half cannot rule 


Collated time cannot carry events
that stretch across two scapes
two calendars
or two fates
It can carry half memories
across two suns
one blue and the other
less true
whose fates were once interwind
one of the other
but now severed
without a protocol



The orphaned reality endures
Its event streams 
and dreams
are gathered blindfolded
on a half stage 
and scolded 
under the blue sun
under the cusp of empty cheers
for what remains
to kneel and be one
with the half-forgotten realities 
and half memories
quietly and  
without a protocol  


Where do memories go to die?
Like dreams under the blue sun
or ether 
onto a sky
that fell?
Where does the other half dwell?
Our hearts
minds
or forever condemned to wander
both parts
without a protocol.