PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

for the briefest of moments I let myself pause to

wonder

could I really go on with this courting of missed

memory without any additional blunder

In my head I feel the quickening of a thought

so brilliant it fairly cheers

but in my heart the spirit and undaunted will

ache to crawl out of the way of this tidal wave

of soon to fall tears

but I know that what holds me so firmly in my place

is not self absorption so much as fear

but nor is it something I can explain, taste, touch,

smell or hear

I only know I feel mass disorientation

a feeling far beyond the realm of what's considered

clear

I suppose I am lucky in the sense that my head is on

relatively straight

but to what I must ask myself do all these Stormy

Veils equate

like a blowing curtain sweeping across a damp,

glassed room

I sing to myself to keep this feeling at bay

am I walking through my own dimmed idea of a tomb

is my mind alive within the idea that I'm really

dead

is it so imperative to make sense of everything I've

heard and said

morning has found a way to arise in my hope from

my sweet, gentle repose

battle doing battle over just what in my yet

unharmed head God only knows

yet this grand passion for writing prose still holds

me in its thrashing throes

shaking me to my very core and exciting me beyond

reason with its masterful blows

and every wild untamed thought when given the chance

will thrill itself

for he who plants the seed also reaps from what

he sews............

( written Jan 22,1992 am)