Sunday, February 10, 2013


It's a part of me 
And Inscribed on my psyche 
These languid thoughts 
Of running or living 
Of flying and freeing
They are just thoughts 
Nothing more
They could never be more
Even though their active counterparts
Their reality is standing 
Just outside the door and I can feel it
The pulsating heartbeat of possibility
I could do what I said I would do
I could leave it all and pack up and go 
I could
But I won't
And you know that I won't 
Because these are the words 
Nothing but words
That give me the room
To just manage a breath 
In the raging mealstrome
Or more accurately 
A break from the rowing
The unending rowing 
In these eternal doldrums
A prayer for a breath
Just a gasp of wind
Let the sails fill for a second
Let there be movement and strength
But I cannot live there
I am too responsible 
To throw down my paddles
And let the sea carry them 
But the madness of these latitudes 
Is becoming kind of old 
And my pathetic platitudes 
Won't save our souls 

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