BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

a poem ... lucky you

Another day with next to nothing done. Spent a significant chunk of it over at my Mom's moving furniture, then just barely made it to the dojo with Daughter #1. Blah blah blah. Who the fuck cares. I'm way behind on my writing this month. I'm hoping to at least get 12 things done per month this year, but it looks like I need very specific conditions in order to write ... I need to be by myself (or at least not being bothered by anybody) with time to kill ... and this almost never comes up. These trips to the dojo at least give me a half hour a couple of times a week ... but it is so hard to get any other quiet time at all.

                    CRUSHED IN DIRER CHAIN

                    unsubtle arisings
                    entwine with despair
                    islands of agony
                    on a glassy sea of pain
                    strange desperation
                    beyond the norm
                    deeper tension
                    and higher stress

                    the clock hand sweeps
                    and days fall away
                    weeks slip by
                    without attaining
                    anything we so much need
                    we press at hours
                    but can not compact
                    any more into the day

                    so many things compete
                    to be the focus
                    of these minutes' time
                    so many demands
                    must be stacked and sorted
                    prioritized and made to fit
                    in discontinuous blocks
                    and moments stolen from sleep

                    were this but a perfect world
                    we could do the things
                    with harbor meaning
                    and never have to deal
                    with the world's demands
                    but this is a poisoned place
                    which terminates meaning
                    with extreme prejudice

                    we grasp at pasts
                    and seek to amass
                    by this collecting
                    some form beyond the self
                    which will have weight
                    within this world
                    and by that gravity
                    alter this spin

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp

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