Popular Posts
-
By Turtle Shell This is one of the November 2 meeting's First Lesson poems. ------------------------------ What I Wish I'd Le...
-
Oh hey, here's something I probably should have linked to a couple weeks ago: It's a book! That's right, the Words & Pictu...
-
by Turtle Shell "Look at this, this brilliant kid Made a masterwork, our genius did." A perfect grade, brings pride galore. Y...
-
There have been a couple more Commuter articles about us lately. Last week they published a piece called You Could Be Next Year's Poet L...
-
Chocolate tastes sweet, creamy, and rich, Slightly bitter, nutty, waxy, earthy, melty. At least, that's how it tastes in words. But t...
-
A thought An inspiration Inhale... A mad dash For pen, paper Holding... A napkin or scrap A pencil or crayon Scribble madly... Exha...
-
Ages go and history flows ever repeating and growing. Common mores get wound up and disdain, then relax, relearn to empathize with a lyr...
-
Well, we are officially on our winter break. Christmas is coming, a new year will begin, and we all get a brand new term. Poetry club will ...
-
So much of our lives we spend with an internal monologue our only company grinding at the loneliness inside. But don't worry, it'...
-
Hello all! At tonight's meeting at the Benton Center we were met with an interesting question: if you wrote a series of poems addresse...
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
By Turtle Shell
This is one of the November 9 meeting's "Suddenly I understood that I am happy" poems.
------------------------------
Important.
There's a place I'm going,
Firm gray paths enclose pressing destinations,
So many of us here for similarly personal purpose,
We cluster off at rigid times in rigid places,
Not trivial meetings, nor trivial reasons,
What's here is IMPORTANT.
Crisp wind slices down a curved brick conduit,
Cold air the minorest of obstacles,
Compared to ASPIRATION it weighs naught,
It pains little, and impedes none.
Today is especially dense,
In the week's ebb and flow, today is a torrent,
Five places I must be, five tributes I must pay,
Each hand-crafted creation accepted,
Each reward: being told to craft another.
The long-term goal shines beacon bright,
I see it. I crave it. I WILL have it.
But the short-term is trying to kill me,
Obligation crushes.
Crucial were the first four meetings today,
A momentary fancy is the fifth,
Still an obligation to meet, but a light one,
On the busiest of days, I make time for fun.
I take my eyes off the horizon,
Decouple from chasing the future,
And relax into NOW.
...
The hour ends unable to account for itself,
"Time flies," they say,
I exit the brief escape, sad that it's over,
Emotionally exercised and drained,
But drained of stress as well.
The cool wind lifts my hair,
I stroll up firm gray paths between gently curved bricks,
Thoughts drift toward tomorrow's duties,
Colored by a new mood.
The day is ending and I'm going home now,
But this place is so beautiful,
I can't wait to come back tomorrow!
This is one of the November 9 meeting's "Suddenly I understood that I am happy" poems.
------------------------------
Important.
There's a place I'm going,
Firm gray paths enclose pressing destinations,
So many of us here for similarly personal purpose,
We cluster off at rigid times in rigid places,
Not trivial meetings, nor trivial reasons,
What's here is IMPORTANT.
Crisp wind slices down a curved brick conduit,
Cold air the minorest of obstacles,
Compared to ASPIRATION it weighs naught,
It pains little, and impedes none.
Today is especially dense,
In the week's ebb and flow, today is a torrent,
Five places I must be, five tributes I must pay,
Each hand-crafted creation accepted,
Each reward: being told to craft another.
The long-term goal shines beacon bright,
I see it. I crave it. I WILL have it.
But the short-term is trying to kill me,
Obligation crushes.
Crucial were the first four meetings today,
A momentary fancy is the fifth,
Still an obligation to meet, but a light one,
On the busiest of days, I make time for fun.
I take my eyes off the horizon,
Decouple from chasing the future,
And relax into NOW.
...
The hour ends unable to account for itself,
"Time flies," they say,
I exit the brief escape, sad that it's over,
Emotionally exercised and drained,
But drained of stress as well.
The cool wind lifts my hair,
I stroll up firm gray paths between gently curved bricks,
Thoughts drift toward tomorrow's duties,
Colored by a new mood.
The day is ending and I'm going home now,
But this place is so beautiful,
I can't wait to come back tomorrow!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment