In my quest to sound deep, I often drown in the reality of the situation. My lungs fill with the pain of coming to terms with what's at hand...
In my struggle to come off debonair, I will get lost in the awkwardness of my laugh or the inconsistency of my sentences, instead of her eyes...
In my failure to approach faith face to face, I make promises that I could never keep...and I know this...
In the past, the music was plenty loud and the beat was steady, but I could never dance well enough...or ever will....weak ankles...
In my adventures I can never be pleased with the fact that what's happening could very well never happen to me again. Instead I dwell on how short lived blessings are...
In the bottom of the milk jug, I see a drop in a glass, instead of a morsel of refreshment... I almost always throw the jug in the trash...
In my countless attempts to beome closer to a face I have never seen yet long to see so much to the point that I just know the sight of it will end everything that troubles me...a.k.a. my life... I often hide behind how I cope with being blind.
In my want to know more, I tell others they know nothing...
In my search for a Life-Saver to suck on that will grant me eloquence, I keep getting packs full of the green ones...hate's a strong word but...the green ones...
In the adversity of being suave or cavalier, I grab her hand with the wound on it. My face turns reder than her band-aid... even so, so she bears the pain and won't allow a swap...
In my feeble attempt to look cool, as it were, I will never be able to look at myself in this way, or allow others to do the same...God forbid...
In my lie to myself that I want to appear mature, I find that maturity is hard to achieve with a random sense of humor... "Does anyone think this is funny? Can I stop now?"
In my search for a pencil sharp enough that will make this paper bleed as I have... that will make this page bruise and wish itself to be burned or crumpled up and thrown away...forgotten...just for now anyway...I always press down too hard... and the paper always laughs...
In the impossible feat of appearing graceful, I get more laughter than applause. It's hard to appreciate the intricacy of a screw up...
It's hard...
Off topic...today will be depressing...Could have been seeing Taking Back Sunday and Jimmy Eat World in Atlanta...aghhhhhh...Last soccer game too. We gotta beat HA.
Come support us if you can...I would love to see your faces...
Good Providence
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5 comments:
Inspiration. Yes. (enough to poop on!)
I like the new picture, very fitting don't you think? Thats how I always picture you. With a pencil as your mouth, speaking everything in that head of yours. Great stuff Wayne.
Wayne, how do write so well? lol.
Wayne,
Omg you write like so good! anyways that pic is really funnie of you! lol~!
Wayne, I would tell you how great that was, and how you inspire me and everything, but thats already been done by several people, and if i repeated it, it probably wouldn't even be noticed, so I'm going to deviate:
I stumble in the dark--falling, searching...
looking for a path, a way through the sea.
all swirls around me--flowing, blowing,
Which way to go? The path I can't see.
Then all of a sudden Your writing comes and smacks me in the head, nearly killing me it makes me dive so deeply, like a mind doing burpies for Coach Latta. you're poetry shows the way to deeper thought like a light...well, kin-of like a light...except this one hit me in the head.
Well, I think that was unique enough. May the Pg's befriend you!
Peace in!
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