BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

everybody's fucked ...

Man ... what is WITH things these days ... I know too damn many people who are just plain FUCKED economically ... this hit home tonight when I tried to log into and found the authorization failing. It turns out that ana has had to drop most of the "comp" accounts she'd been giving out to cut down on bandwidth. Bummer. She'd done me the favor of putting me on the comp list a number of months ago due to MY economic crisis, and now she's going through much the same, with the prospect of having to move, get roomates, etc. Heavy sigh.

Anyway, in case you hadn't noticed, I had a couple of more poems from the past few days ... one here and one in the previous post. I haven't had any time to get caught up on the poem site ... but maybe once I'm done with this case study I'll be able to at least get the May poems up.

Visit the BTRIPP home page!

                    NONE ABLE TO FATHOM

                    they do not know,
                    and none of them care,
                    each side dismissive
                    of what's within,
                    none able to fathom
                    the depth of despair,
                    the breadth of our anguish,
                    the heights of this pain

                    each day brings more,
                    fresh terror,
                    new twists on doubt,
                    unseen forms of rage;
                    but none can sense
                    what happens here,
                    a separate universe
                    they're unable to see

                    every function broken now,
                    every option void;
                    there are no pathways
                    leading off
                    to better futures,
                    no escape routes
                    which would point us to
                    some sanctuary

                    the walls move closer,
                    the spikes press in,
                    we are trapped
                    in hell-like spaces,
                    ensnared within
                    webs of razor wire,
                    and strange dimensions
                    from which we're never freed

                    all is scattered,
                    all distraught;
                    we can not amass
                    the pieces strewn
                    across this wasteland,
                    this nightmare plane,
                    to reassemble
                    dignity nor deity

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

visit the BTRIPP home page


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