BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,
BTRIPP
btripp

SOOOO tired last night ...

OK ... so getting up on Thrusday at 6:30am probably had a lot to do with it, but I was shocked to find myself asleep at the keyboard by 11:30pm. BLEH. How fucking mundane is THAT? A bad sign for the future ... a very very bad sign. Anyway, I didn't get anything much done last night beyond reading my LJ Friends list (and we all know what a constructive use of time that is) so this didn't get typed up. Oh my! Well, here it is ... more poetry.

By the way, The Girls are taking me out to the Cubs game today for Father's day. This should be .... interesting. Daughter #1 has never made it more than 3 innings through a game, and Daughter #2 might not even do that. Oh, well. It will be nice to see Wrigley Field again ... I used to have weekend & night season seats there (for about 10 years) but haven't been there in a couple of years.


                    AGAIN WE SLIP TO THE ABYSS


                    like a landslide
                    we are ground beneath
                    on-rushing stone
                    like an avalanche
                    we are smothered
                    in a white-out of doubt
                    swept without bearing
                    not knowing what

                    all our misgivings
                    burst to life
                    vague things in shadow
                    step out as monster
                    and strike us down
                    we have lost the challenge
                    failed the test
                    made self-loathing's mark

                    such is the way
                    of the real day
                    the pattern that the world
                    impresses on us
                    nothing good
                    may grace this life
                    no relief
                    from constant strife

                    why must every fear
                    be realized
                    when every hope is crushed
                    and spit out with our prayers?
                    why must we falter
                    at every step
                    and be mocked for our slip
                    derided for our imperfection?

                    will there never be
                    escape from this,
                    from the chains of the mundane
                    consensus life?
                    can we never break free of this
                    destroying world,
                    to live at last
                    in that other plane?



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                00/00/2001

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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