Thursday, October 19, 2006

Paralytic Response

We’ve dreamt these unopened phases of the moon,
these covenants of silence where our words once
tried to dwell,

but we cannot bridge the distances with such frail
efforts as these, the hands we hardly move from
our sides as the moment passes, the critical time
fades away and we are left having failed to try,
desolated by our own paralytic response to the
thing we hoped so hard to capture,

and all the unopened mail on the kitchen table,
these quorums of unfulfillment, these methods
by which we avoid our lives and instead abide
in the chill crucible of detachment—

they pickle the juice within us and leave us
husks, prisoners to time spent trying not to,
hoping that the journey would somehow
take place with our feet rooted firmly to
the sad, familiar ground we’ve always known,

and we’ve grown to almost love the disappointment,
the loathing as we push all our hopes away in
a deepening wind of wasted breath, too
old now to remark well and truly on the
news of the day, too old for our shop worn
traveling shoes, ancient folk in the clothes
of children, our vampiric dreams spiraling
ever backward to those jumping-off points
when we sought to act, when we ought to
have done so, but were weighted down
so heavy with our freight of doubt and
apathy that we could scarcely raise a
hand in the direction of our own dreams.

6 comments:

M. Shahin said...

"by which we avoid our lives and instead abide
in the chill crucible of detachment—

they pickle the juice within us and leave us
husks, prisoners to time spent trying not to,
hoping that the journey would somehow
take place with our feet rooted firmly to
the sad, familiar ground we’ve always known,"

Painful but true words. Most of us don't want to leave the familiar, and we'd rather talk about unfuliflled dreams instead of making an effort.

I liked the ending also. Looking forward to reading more.

drthunder said...

Well darn! I've been waitin' to read the comments of others, but want you to know that I'm still here. Our blogging friends must be very busy right now.

MB said...

That first line is an incredible image. This poem effectively conveys a dark sense of oppression and resignation that makes me want to go for a walk in the fresh air and nature! But it is both remarkable and common how paralyzed people can feel by a sense of failure and pointlessness.

Firehawk said...

m shahin,

Again, thanks for coming over. As far as I'm concerned, any poem that doesn't engage some truth about humanity or the world we live in is of arguable value. I tend to mine the darker truths and emotions for my work. There's just not sufficient motivation when I'm feeling happy and carefree. I should be posting another piece fairly soon.

Doc,

Yes, many of my blogging friends seem to have fallen through a hole in the internet. Ah, well. I have seen better days of being a blog friend, as well, with my busy schedule.

MB,

Taking a walk in nature is a good idea whichever way you slice it. I suppose I got fairly negative there for a while, so it's good that you called me on it. I'll try to mend my ways and come up with something somewhat more uplifting for the next one.

Again, thanks to everyone who came by, even if you didn't comment.

Anonymous said...

firehawk:
Hey, it's me, Kelly. So glad you stopped by my blog! Don't be a stranger. Ken and I enjoyed hanging out with you, as well, and I look forward to many more Con meetings. Keep in touch!

MB said...

Patrick, great to see you back! I'm guessing that you and I both believe that a walk in nature is always a good idea. But I hope you understand that I don't presume to confuse the content of a poem with the poet, I don't assume that what's in the poem is necessarily your personal point of view — it may or may not be, and there's no way for me to know for sure. That said, I think I'll head out for a walk! ;-) Take care.