October 07, 2009
Recessed
Cold blue glow
and hum of the fluorescent,
drone of fans and click of keys.
Squelching, squashing, pushing back,
anything but the norm.
Logical, predictable, calculable,
common, typical,
these are acceptable.
Gradually recessing the notes
in my head, with facts, news,
the here and now.
Where is the desire?
The new and creative patterns,
the excitement of the composition,
of the performance, of the creation?
Perhaps the resistance to normality
has slowly eroded.
Perhaps my age, my status,
this province, all are conspiring
to bring me down to their level.
Perhaps it's time itself,
constantly resisting my urges,
my insistence on more minutes,
more hours to my day.
Perhaps it's my own laziness;
to continue the three lives
I may have to split myself in two.
Dating
Posted by: Dating at November 7, 2009 02:34 AM|
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