BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

Shit ... forgot to go to sleep ...

OOPS ... I almost got to bed before midnight, but then remembered some stuff that I wanted to get done here, some things I hadn't finished up there, and the next thing I know it's 5:30am. Now, this was not just ANY 5:30am, but 5:30am on Daughter #2's second birthday, and, of course, Daughter #1 had already gotten #2 up by then. So, following a vain attempt at sleep (from 5:30 till about 5:45) I was awoken by #1 tugging at a toe saying that I had to get up since it was time to open #2's presents (well before dawn, of course). sigh Today is special too, since it is going to be #2's first day at pre-school ... not being able to go to the one where her sister is until that magic "Two Years Old" line had been crossed ... so we're off with birthday cupcakes for a few hours of her doing that, followed by birthday stuff the rest of the day. I hope that Daddy can avoid being CRANKY.

Speaking of cranky, I guess those who would prefer the poems to hide behind the cut tags feel strongly about it! Although I've only heard one vote in that direction (the current tally is 2 for "as things are" and 1 for "behind the cut tag") I have been hearing repeated strong suggestions for the latter pretty much every time I bring the subject up! Now, were I to keep up the pace that I have managed thus far THIS month (7 poems in 10 days) I'd be back at 21/month, 250/year ... which is a lot to be trotting out in front of everybody, I suppose.

Actually, getting the poem below done took "extraordinary means" ... I had to run out to get something to wrap #2's new tricycle (a real spiffy "retro" re-issue of the classic old red metal, steps-in-the-back Radio Flyer!) in and invest WAY too much money in various Valentines Day cards (I needed 2 for the girls, one each for The Wife and my Mom, plus I needed 2 each for the girls to give to their Mom and Nana, etc.), so I found myself at the Walgreens at Divsions & Dearborn at 7:00pm or so ... I have not been investing a lot of $$$ in "amusement coffee" recently (for the obvious reasons), but I opted to slide into the Starbucks across the street from there for a Venti Caffe Mocha and bit of scribbling time. Man, I will be SO happy when spending $4 on a coffe does not seem like an extravagance! Bleh ... this being broke stuff really sucks. Ah, but though I am poor in liquid assets, I am rich in already-composed poems, they are lightly guarded in the vault at ... should you want to go run your fingers through them!

                    INTO UNIVERSAL NIGHT

                    rattling through the excess,
                    wheels spinning
                    within wheels,
                    transcribing inner trauma
                    beyond the formal known;
                    suffering here dreamless
                    but for the looming
                    nightmare side

                    that is the hidden,
                    that is the bane;
                    none touch that reality,
                    none believe
                    the depths its blades incise,
                    only we endure this,
                    only we feel
                    the million lines that bleed

                    too many states here
                    there is no focus
                    nor solid real,
                    all flux and fluid,
                    all shift and slide,
                    momentary realignments
                    and temporary dawns

                    no wonder there's no plan,
                    no wonder there's no base;
                    we tumble down through chaos,
                    never sure of where,
                    never sure of what,
                    only vaguely still the who
                    within the center point,
                    target of all knives

                    dysphoric currents smother,
                    malicious worlds arise,
                    there is nothing
                    marked as exit,
                    there is nowhere
                    safe for flight,
                    only endless downward spirals
                    into universal night

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

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