Some Lost Design

12 01 2006

Some Lost Design

I think I fell asleep that night, waiting for your star to shine. You said it was the one that hung a little low waiting – the mission’s cold on this side of the window. So if I can remember it straight I’m pretty sure I turned away from the Western sky, I looked and I lay waiting for the escape of the Eastern side. I was only a little dreamy while every other part of me culled my dress-dried body to sleep. I’m sorry; I fell into some ocean before I could rearrange these not-too-many lines into a likely pattern or poetic design.

Not Poetry

I don’t like poems,
They cheat with language,
Poets are cold,
Forcing strange rhymes –
Attempting to manage,

I don’t like poetry,
It’s long and mundane,
Too repetitive,
The meter is off –
And still awkward rules to obey.

I don’t like the poets,
They all break and cry just the same,
A change of mind,
A turn of the head–
I’m just another accidental poet today.

Only So Many Years to Live

I suppose creativity bends
At the pace that the mind is spent,
For once you reach the forgotten heights,
You’re left without time.

Your Web

There’s a collapse in the framework of this web,
Some tangled creature has lost himself,
Tearing the very fabric of time’s thread,
Two empty stories unfulfilled.

On Dying Young

I think it’s strange that I’ve always imagined myself dying young. Not that I think it would be especially tragic- I don’t plan on dying until after I’m seventy at least (I’ve definitely got the health for it). Sometimes I think I’d like to die feeling young, thinking that the adventure is never complete, that given the time, I would have filled more chapters. And sometimes I hope that someday I’ll grow old and wise so that I will be able to come to terms with death. It’s not that I believe I’m invincible now – no one at any age has earned such a mental luxury. Nor do I believe that death and living with a “seize-the-day” attitude are necessarily irreconcilable. I just happen to believe that I’m not going to ever feel satiated with my life – I don’t think I’ll ever reach a point and say “yes, I’ve done what I needed to do”. Like so many, I feel I will die without that sage sense of completion. I will die young.

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