Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Time a Blushing Crusader


Time a blushing crusader, masked by the
routine, the daily rituals of life--that get us sucked up in the mundane. Contentment an eager less word-- our muse(or lack of) that serenades us in the comfort of routine-in the always instead of the maybe--lacking risk and blind to the extreme. Ignorant of both misery and bliss and without such-wrapped(in a black and white world - grey) safely inside the box. Why is it that people no longer dream, no longer risk--no longer set themselves on the edge -terrified of the sea of vulnerability --too afraid of the undertow and even more so the aftermath that is left?. 'Better to have loved and lost,' no longer holds truth or weight--but rather sinks -that anchor holds us steadfast to this black and white world. Too many of us have become tamed and leashed--caught in a our sedentary playgrounds --where the sea-saw no longer rises up--but remains grounded- never to view the what else--the could bees’ --the would bee’s--if only we weren't so afraid--of
what? Afraid that we may fail--or better yet that we may succeed--therefore held hostage to that success and again living in the constant fear that you may fall. Yet passed the fear or because of it we are now blinded monkeys without a grasp-- without the knowledge of another realm that calls for our existence. Yet our entity is leashed --unable to breath--barricaded we know not of the freedom that belongs to us. We stay tackled by societal regress and hold tight to our inhalers- the crutch, the excuse that is never called for, yet used anyways and always. I too, a hypocrite, am tangled by the strings that guide my malpracticed life. The lawsuit --is that I’m not blind nor ignorant and therefore have no excuse --yet I too--am tired---bogge d down -I often beg for sleep -to disappear into the subtle ignorance of blinded naiveté--to pretend I know not --yet still I’m constantly chastised in my knowing--ironic--sadistic temperance--so again I fall way
to midnight temptation that regimented circle-no-square that I map out only to bang against the angles of my own dismay. 

Why can we not break through the maze of utter discontentment - instead we remain in the spoils of our rotting potential.

The time is now-we can no longer hide in that cloud of numb procrastination. Live in the now--believe in yourself. Time is passing and the years seem to be in fast-forward the older we get--we are no longer able to press pause-- the moments gone--are now -the fuel for new moments--soon to be our history---make it count--let our regrets be no more and only learn from our failures-after all we are