What to do with crazy?
I know the answer
As soon as I ask it…
But I don’t remember at first.
– Hardly ever –
First my humanness bounds forward
– Quite in spite of me –
– Practically without notice (leastways at first) –
As deeply affected as ever
(Didn’t say I was proud of all this
but there it is – your effect on me)
So I pace, pour a drink,
Desperate for distraction, alleviation
I get my hands busy
A savory dinner
Asparagus and red potatoes and olive oil
Might chase away the ugly
Colors and scent and texture
Adorning and performing at their best
For a down to earth return
An old favorite song reminds me
Of hope and light and life
A walk in the sunshine
The air thick with garlic and oregano
Real and here.
But you’re real too.
Though far away
Still too close for comfort.
How I’ve given up all this power
– How all this goodness could be shadowed –
I don’t know
But fettered I am and can’t
Discern if it’s love or its killer that binds me
What a shame these delights don’t suffice
In blanketing, distracting, or making me forget
What’s wrong with us
As long as we’re bound
crazy – appearing absurdly out of place or in an unlikely position
3 thoughts on “Bound”
Thanks so much; I’m grateful for your visit and your positive stroke! And for the record, I’ve enjoyed so many of your “pieces” (is that a usable term for poems? Much like music?).
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Thank you! (“Pieces” seems like a good word!…)