Fulfillment (Poem)

Discussion in 'The Artist's Corner' started by StFrancis, Apr 23, 2010.

  1. Grandma in the casket and all I can think about is fixing,
    Itching, needing to breathe the fresh air.
    And not the funeral circulated dying air,
    But the air of a free man who makes powerful decisions.
    Have I ever breathed that air before,
    Or do I starve myself of oxygen enough to trick my thinking?
    Questions come and questions go at a funeral side divergence,
    And the only thing you can do is remember to keep living.

    Put me in a trance. I could dance right here.
    I'm not picky on where I choose to let go.
    That flesh and blood that's rotting went into my existence
    And now I live the first of my life without you being in it.
    It doesn't change much but my doubting,
    It doesn't start me off in shouting,
    But it affects me in ways that I'll learn and never know,
    Me with my dress shirt on tight enough to choke.

    There's my high school father, and there's a bit of him in me
    Too bad, I thought that things would turn out better.
    I made vows that I scratched on bedroom walls,
    Trying to turn out stronger, setting up to trip up well,
    Sliding into a spot that was never vacated, just waiting.
    It's generational, transitional, vocational, spontaneous
    It's predestined protesting that feels so extraneous
    Anything more than fate makes realistic fakes.

    Surprise you little bastard, everything turned out wrong.

     

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