Some internal widget
automatic overflow
esoteric unsuspected
ticks away
internal
monitoring ups and downs
highs and low
is there a ratio?
some quota I don't understand?
that the process
- random beyond control -
must have some balance?
Is there a secret waterline?
normality functionality only bearable so long
an unused muscle
easily strained
reaches capacity, some predetermined scope
mettle fatigue gives way to overflow.
Is there a rule?
every twenty-first, thirteenth, eighth hour?
an optimum interval for respite and recovery?
there is no recovery
only absence
overflow trickles into awareness
pulsing
prickling at my eyelids
triggered by nothing at all
emotional cramp seizing out of nowhere
the widget
a trembling compass point
hair trigger fault line
grief like a thirst not to be met by salty tears
nor without
they come again.
simply because.
they're there.
they must be cried
and no one else can do it for me.
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I find myself writing poetry again just now - once more in a situation of grief, pain and anxiety. The words just come, the poems form thems...
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1927-2002 How terribly strange to be orphaned. Too young a word for someone my age. Sudden yet hardly unforeseen in the gym Wednesday, gone ...
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CAUGHT I saw a moment caught and thought of you A spider's thread holds fast and true A leaf does not let go And such is love at times...
4 comments:
Nice to drop by and see what you are woking on.
As always what you write hits close to home.
wow i read this an it touched me everytime. my grandfather died this weekend. I am spent with nothing left. In 4 years I have lost as many family members and I am now beyond crying. take care.
wow i read this an it touched me everytime. my grandfather died this weekend. I am spent with nothing left. In 4 years I have lost as many family members and I am now beyond crying. take care.
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