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A Mid-October Renaissance

Contributed by butterat_zool on Saturday, 12th March 2005 @ 03:32:48 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



I get up early and call in sick.
In the morning fog,
I stroll the cobblestone roads
of Coast Street and Elm,
past saxophonists
who had mastered the blues
thirty years ago.
As the sun creeps upward,
I veer off the mossy avenues
to take a walk
down St. Johns pier.
I stand at the end and stare,
looking into the horizon
and the ocean depths,
both equally infinite.

Nearby, a balding man chases the days first catch,
trying to hit it with his rubber mallet.
Already drunk, he seems determined
to break the tranquility of this place
before laying the bass to rest
in the Igloo brand coffin at his feet.
Having nothing to hide, I strip
and dive into the water
some thirty feet below.
I sink to a depth where eyes are useless
and kick myself away from the pier,
blindly groping and pulling through the murk.

After either twenty seconds or twenty minutes,
I surface and just keep swimming.
I dont really know what I hope to find,
or even what there is to be found.
A few hours later, as I float on my back,
trying to catch my breath,
I resign to the will of the sea.
Nothing can break the tranquility now.
I sense angels nearby,
and, soon, I will join them.




Copyright © butterat_zool ... [ 2005-03-12 03:32:48]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: A Mid-October Renaissance (User Rating: 1 )
by lostinmyself on Saturday, 12th March 2005 @ 07:48:27 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
This almost seems sad, it had efinatly got me thinking.
There are some good images in this.

Great write,
*hugs* Phil xxx




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