Old phrases reread, boom. Who I was then,
Harnessed. Perfect restraint, controlled.
Today, sleep peels back revulsion as avoidance clings.
Pages turn, little evidence left of mindset. Intentional.
This blockage is revolting.
Resistance is the counterweight
As horizontal momentum plumbs
Losing minutes to gluttony
As reform looms.
49, you unfit oaf.
Punch yourself in the face.
Uncork this period of lax and let it blow.
Fucking Let It Blow.
Day begin
Forcing typical pattern to take a hike.
Into the wherever of whatever,
That most fantastic replacement word
For, fuck you.
Friday craves a shucking
Of dead momentum.
Objects serving less than sentimental value
Need no longer be a prop.
Surveillance of a collected decade
Bring deadened noise,
And new motivation to dare.
Dare I chuck the muck that pretends to matter?
I do,
I do.
Crunch hard the monolith of hesitancy.
The purpose of plucking words will aid in which way, again?
Somehow the recognition of methods used, and how they have become overused,
Plays on no gain. No advancement, no clutching of ground gained.
No progress is no progress even when the dirty work of mental taxation is being paid.
I need a new detonator for this task at hand.
Before Spring springs sprouts of uncertainty, and they root in spoiled soil.
Par for the course of managing disarray
I need to plug in and commit to the louder bombs within my range
That open and blare the philosophical nuggets of purpose
That seed in my psyche and wait for proper watering.
Yes, that's it, there, there where the moisture needs moistening
On the planted path of worthy aggression and chosen sills.
Lap against these ears, came the sound of foamy lather
No shells decorating the shore.
Browned shins and reddish forearms soaking up the sun
As layers of the moment before my eyes were focused on, intently.
Crisis among the ranks as the timing of what comes next - confers
An offer to collapse among trees and less worry, and arms eager for the bending.
Where am I in the mix of these details that swirl?
Thicker skins revolt against the ease of easy, as there is, no easy.
A prick to the heart distracts, racy pulse and heated pressure
Rise before words gain volume, and the turning to prayer
Resumes.
What is there to believe in between us, when the core of you doubts?
The head and the heart have known decades deep
The wonder and awe of what comes next...
This, the elementary spiritual gauge
I run ahead.
No guarantees. Living the life before our eyes, in front of our face.
Uncertainty is the banner of the helpless and in times of trouble, flown high
Anything to distract the worry from center-stage and into a place of confinement.
Protein, enzyme, blood draw... the vital statistics are spelling conditions
The Patriarchal head of our table is under duress.
Prayers be strong and forthright, keep our dearest safe.
Catastrophizing - what does it mean?
The Bay, held fast long enough for the next bout to attack.
Tone deaf rhythm to stay the mood away, until it hits in orchestrated intention.
Megahertz manipulating senses into a frenzy of luscious imaginings.
The gorge holds mass enough to spread the separation between action and attendance
With a wake wide enough to derail deep-rooted motivation/intention
And it must be swallowed effectively, devoured from a place of rancour
Good enough to instigate moves that are no longer accidental, but purged hard
And taken. Taken out to pasture where rot is the next phase,
As layers of dreaming un-peel themselves from a vision board as praise follows action.
