Mea mea, mea culpa!
I wish I were not such a dope-a. . .

the fault is mine,
lain in some crevice of my brain. . .
I can’t do what ten people say,
so I guess I will remain the same.”

Neurons fired,
connections made
+++++in proper space and time
keep heart abeat
+++++and digits wired
+++++muscles moving,
+++++joints in skeleton agrooving
+++++defying weighty gravity,
when forged
in proper space and time,

But those, though they’re
of the essence,
when seen in excess,
segue a lady
from average Jane
to genius, madness. . .

And to avert
and further self-inflict,
or other sort of inner crime,

I must find stones
+++++will serve for me to step on,
+++++to keep above the flowing waters
+++++and the steep and slippery chasms
+++++although along my chosen route
+++++they chose themselves to interpose,
+++++in such a way
+++++to warn me off.
+++++and deflate me
+++++to a state so low,
+++++in which I much prefer to stay
+++++just where I am
+++++rather than
+++++on bright and fresh adventures
+++++quite happily to go,

and maybe cultivate
some brand new skills
like scaling cliffs
or growing underwater gills,
so I can do all that it takes
to make that bold deep dive
or cliff-steep climb.

Or find an even better route
that gets me there one little stair
or careful step at a time,
rather than requiring me
at lightning speed
to do the devil’s wicked dare
of turning on a dime.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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