Archive for ‘Inertia Variations’

October 16, 2013

From Conduit to Cipher

Forfeiture
For too long a conduit I have been,
receptive only to the works of others.
In this way, in a way, I have kept myself
going; and were it not for the pleasure
and enrichment I receive at this font,
I might long ago have given up.
Then again, I might have
achieved something myself.

October 10, 2013

CXIII

Failure

There’s no point forcing it.
I’ve been forcing it for long enough:
going through the motions, motionlessly,
directionlessly, pleasurelessly. Attempting
is no longer tempting.  Other than to furnish myself
with further proof of incapacity, there doesn’t seem
to be much point in trying anymore.
Maybe I can give up after all.
I should never have doubted my ability
in that area.

 

 

October 7, 2013

FEELINGS

Failing at Feeling

I may as well face the fact
that I am no longer capable
of doing what I once believed
I was capable of  doing.
Not that I had any reason to assume
that I was capable of it.
It was just a feeling that I had.
And now I have a different feeling.

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September 28, 2013

That Time of Day

Termination

A destructive overawareness of time
knives through the hot empty spaces
of an afternoon. A sense of urgency vaporizing
into torpor. Even the traffic sounds tired.
Do something, I tell myself.
What?  The same thing I’ve been doing
every day for years on end
with varying degrees of failure.

September 18, 2013

CXXIX

Spent force

I dread the ordeal of enforced jollification,
the pressure of pleasure: those strained circumstances
when something is thought to be wrong with you
if you cannot enjoy yourself under conditions
that are supposedly ideal for enjoyment.
Some people like to have fun.
I realize I’m not that into it.
It sounds tiring.

August 21, 2013

X

Unseizable
Out of  all the things
I could have done on this day,
that might have been fun, edifying
or charitable, I have chosen instead
to sink somewhere in flustered haze.
As if anything might be salvaged
from these uselessly plumbed depths.

August 11, 2013

Art and Eros

Love Taints Everything

Often, around the middle of a week day afternoon,
I find myself considering the connection
between sexual  and creative energy.
Torn by futile lusts, I seek refuge
from the vagueness of the day
and the promise of endeavor
in reliable memories and fantasies
that spill, reliably, into sleep.

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July 29, 2013

XIX

Safety in Numbness

I do not know the meaning of  hard work.
But I know what it means to adhere
to a schedule of  diligent work-avoidance
as if it were a regular job: a strict routine
of  wandering around and lying down
and brooding over wasted time.
I don’t like to mix business
with anything, least of all pleasure.

July 16, 2013

Citadel

penpaper

Am I empty at the core or just around the edges?
Are there riches therein?  I wouldn’t know.
I’m weighed down in a warm white glow,
crushing the stark yellow dullness of the day
into dust, statically and statelessly drifting
through this haze of rust.  Riding the waves
of lostness across the landscape of a desk,
into the bulwark of a threadbare curtain.

June 15, 2013

A Prelude of Sorts

Impotence_0002

For years I have tarried, secure
in the notion that all this luxuriating
in vicarious decay served some sort of purpose. Until
it became apparent that this extended arid preamble
had turned terminal, squashing any prospect
of  fecundity. Fading without ever having flourished:
a dream unwinding,  grinding
to a standstill.