December 20th, 2001

Loon

Hot off the press, as it were ...

Oh, lucky you ... a new poem, just finished ... not much else to reporty, very much "same shit, different day" as usual. If you want to get REALLY depressed, why don't you go check out "the motherlode" of my poems over at http://i.am/btripp


                    FALTERED, FALLEN, FAILED


                    dark descent
                    into depths ...
                    we can not gauge
                    the reach of this
                    only sense the drops
                    which have no end
                    gut-wrenching falls
                    into direr states

                    lost, frozen,
                    locked within
                    an unmoving zone
                    which won't allow
                    actions unfolding
                    which holds unyielding
                    to undifferentiated grey
                    and empty hours wasted

                    too much is broken
                    too much is lost
                    what once was supporting
                    has gone to dust
                    what once gave meaning
                    has been shattered
                    shot down in flames
                    trampled under foot

                    trapped into vectors
                    of cycled decline
                    we can not break free
                    we can not shift
                    beyond these tight constraints
                    which pull us lower
                    and drag all factors down
                    towards destruction

                    we have no place
                    we have no purpose
                    we are failure
                    and a paragon
                    of pointless being
                    dreading the future
                    ruing the past
                    framed in eternal anguish



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                12/19/2001

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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