MARCH 1, 2012
So, here we are the first of March. Time for new poetry. Most of the poems this month will be short little "contemplation" about... well, I'll let you make your mind up about that... and what... if anything... any of it means... I think the hardest part is balancing between REALITY (whatever that means) and the POETIC. As I go along, I hope I'll get better at it.
Changeling
Such a simple
thing to do, open the door.
Just lift
your hand, wrap your fingers ‘round
the knob,
give it a twist then push.
Yet, there
are things to consider first.
Gravity, for
example, tends to frown
upon any pull
away from her. Jealous
she is of
movement that might remove
her firm, motherly
grasp from your arm.
And then
there are the eyes in your head
which hate surprises,
sudden shifts
in scenery or
change in light.
They’ve grown
accustom to the dark,
to the faded
photos, the bad paintings
hanging on
familiar walls. Change,
not a thing
that they care for at all.
And, of course, there’s the mind and its tricks:
fear, guilt,
hopelessness, using anything and
everything it
can to keep itself stationary,
fixed to one
spot, immobilized, jailed
inside that
which is already known.
But don’t
think about it.
Don’t think
at all. Just
open the damn
door
and walk out.
—rrw 1-17-12
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