BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

A day without L.J.

Oh, yeah ... big fun. You'd have thought I'd have gotten more stuff done today with L.J. down, but that didn't seem to be the case. I DID get three Unicity sites ready for the ads that are breaking next week ... ... ... and ... but unfortunately, the main Unicity site was down today too, so the damn links out of those aren't working! Bleh.

I "tidied up" the October 2001 page, so that's ready to roll at ... the poem below is the last for that. Actually, I probably WOULD have written another poem tomorrow, but I really do want to have an "even number" of poems for 2001 that will bring my total for the past several years up to a nice round 1,000 (and will bring the "archive" up to 4,000 poems!), and right now I only have 17 poems to go to reach that point. Since I wrote 11 poems this month (and am pretty much "up to speed" to be writing 15-20 poems a month again), I'm having to "put on the brakes" so as to not over-shoot my target and have obsessive-compulsive tics for the rest of my life for not hitting that 1,000/4,000 target!

This was an odd one ... the first two stanzas got penned at the Dojo on Monday, the third stanza was this morning, and the rest Tuesday evening. I very rarely "drag out" a poem like that, but it does seem to have worked pretty well. Typically I don't "work on" my poems, I drag a "snapshot" of inner states out into words as best I can and that's it ... with only minimal edits when the thing gets typed up. Odd that I can't let a piece of prose sit still without endless editorial massaging, but I like my poems ripped out all raw and bloody.


                    in this darkness
                    we have no recourse
                    we have no vector
                    we have no place
                    immersed in grey
                    there is no reason
                    there is no meaning
                    there is no point

                    all that we do
                    falls to dust
                    decaying foully
                    before we're even done
                    no cycles end
                    they just resume
                    in middling stasis
                    endless unsure states

                    trapped in hell
                    at the focus of damnation
                    we cannot flee the flames
                    or escape the freeze
                    which grips and shatters
                    we can not dodge the blades
                    or the grinding wheel
                    seeking our demise

                    we see all assets
                    bleed away
                    a hemorrhagic river
                    of everything we've had
                    gushing down drains
                    nothing can replace this
                    nothing can staunch the flow
                    or slow the effluence

                    all madness here
                    all evil
                    we are stuck in nightmares
                    which fill the day
                    we are locked into dreams
                    which are horrid
                    and unending
                    and set to kill

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp

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