BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,
BTRIPP
btripp

Seven of Twelve

(sigh) ... I do wish I had those other seven poems done ... they've been sitting on my desk for weeks ... I've found, however, that I have a lot better luck with typing them up via the laptop (something about the itty-bitty notebooks sitting comfy on the laptop making it easier to decode them).

Well ... it will give you all something to look forward to!


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                    POINTLESS ITERATION STEPPING


                    illness, emptiness
                    all things drain
                    to pits of despair
                    zones of discomfort
                    too many systems fail
                    as too much pain
                    enfolds the form
                    with reminders of decay
                   
                    nothing's left
                    as aim or goal
                    just the hollowness
                    of a burgled tomb
                    where every dream is stolen
                    and every hope destroyed
                    and all our prayers
                    chiseled from the stone
                   
                    no rest by night
                    no growth in day
                    we tumble through cycles
                    of pointless iteration
                    stepping through motions
                    as dead as the rites
                    of that sleeping beast
                    and all its minions
                   
                    the battles rage around us now
                    yet we drift on automatic
                    wondering what matters
                    of that world outside
                    which only touches us
                    with its killing blades
                    of fate and function
                    pressure and demand
                   
                    we have no allies here
                    all take part in minor roles
                    within the mundane mass
                    those who'd see and understand
                    cast us off, reacting
                    to the form of their own cage
                    unable to alleve the pressure
                    or aid us in escape



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                07/30/2002

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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