Monday, August 08, 2011

swimming to pass the time

and so it goes--
creeping ever onward;
a puzzle
wrapped in an enigma;
the knowing
and the unknowing,
thousands upon thousands
of small moments
and, of course,
large ones, too

I don't even like
these words
I'm writing;
just writing
to be writing,
it's too much time
that passes
between the writing,
too much
that goes

I need to find
a stream of consciousness
to swim in,
its calming waters
soothing to my soul,
the freedom it allows
to feel,
the opportunity
to be as nakedly real
as can be
possibly allowed

right now,
I'm being distracted
by people walking by
and the disparate sounds
of flowing water
and 40's jazz
and honking horns
and the cacophony
of conversations
I could care less about

of course,
nobody cares about
the words
that are being
put to paper
in a haphazard fashion
to pass the time
until I have to
go back to work

to pass the time
so I don't fall asleep

to pass the time
as I fill out
the remaining pages
of this writing pad
that has recently
become useful
to me

and how many pages
are there left?
do I have enough
words to
fill them all?
I should--
I would like to
believe that,
as long as
I have breath,
there will be
more than enough
to fill
a thousand pages
a thousand more after that

but for now,
I think I'll stop
this sun
is starting to
make me feel
like I 'll melt
and the words
are starting to feel
it's like sex,
you can't force it,
it has to come
(and yes,
I did say come)

but it's just
a temporary pause
in the proceedings
I will be back
with more words
that will allow you
to do more than
pass the time
as you read them.


Anonymous said...

I love this piece babe. its funny and fresh. its light and interesting. i would love to hear it live. you really need to do a reading soon. love you

Anonymous said...

its me your wife btw. :)