Bleh. Sucks to be me. Here's a poem from yesterday, much of this subject ...
NO PLACE, NO WAY, NO MEANING
an eddy
a backwater
we have drifted
out of the flow
we now idle
in a still zone
while events
rush on by
we do nothing
we achieve nothing
we act to exhaustion
without a result
we drive within context
but one that means nothing
just endless cycles
of grinding pointlessness
we see the chaos
at every hand
all things we value
poisoned or swept away
twisted into forms
horrific, mocking
for all we get to keep
is still tainted and decayed
we grasp for purpose
having lost all hope
for ways to save
ourselves from this terror
we seek some road
which has a place
which bears a meaning
and goes somewhere
for we are locked in grey
in indistinct and in between
every effort fades, dissolves,
every intent no better than a wish
all our tomorrows falter
and drop back down to nightmares
the gaping steely maw
of the mundane monster's madness
- Brendan Tripp
11/07/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp