Posted by: SPT | September 21, 2010


Distressed and unaware, I move through motions for arguments sake. Bitter memories stir awake, melting with the tales of my past mistakes. Taking each step is easy, moving one foot in front, moving one feet. But the miles add up, quick, so heavy they sink like quicksand on its whim.

Blown away, the breeze carries depth with each puff. The levels of my emotions have piled up, cascading across my face. I speak with such subtlety, even she could feel the whisper that I released. Steps away from being labeled complete, I etch into my heart an image–deep, it holds a reservoir.

Imprints on her existence, I hold a stance reminiscent of fishing. Patiently waiting, I mock the ripples of her prey. I focus on a steady sway, heaving each moment with anticipation. But deliberately, I reel in. The actions repeat, but delayed.

Was my bait worth the hook? I can’t help but ask. I throw my weight back, and lift my feet up; with or without the catch, I’m determined to cook. Simmer and brew, saucy moves dilute my thoughts into two: Should I keep on, or let it cool?


The legwork is playing with words, confusing each verb for a proverb. Confusing each thought for a finished line, I’ll draw my inspiration from the moments that I exist within. These emotions, these heavy thoughts, work from the inner portions of my heart to muscle their way on out. They force their effect upon my stream of conciousness, just as our blood carries the nourishment of men, and its symbolism is like blue veins dry of oxygen. Until I release my internal piece, my bowl for lighting up this world, I’ll struggle to define what I seek. Is it lust, is it love, or is my flight in this world simply to hover above. I travel forward, and dare to look back, so I walk blind towards my future because I’m busy examining my past.


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