Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

February 1, 2011

No Cakewalk

Filed under: poetry, prose, rhyme — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 7:59 am

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of what might

just happen in late night

screwball comedies,

A black & white

Cakewalk

Where he keeps just missing her,

& unknown to her,  her one & only is  so near,

& you watch  & wait for them to wise up,

For when their timing improves.

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of just sitting tight,

& trusting the plot twists,

& our protagonists,

& all that insignificant subterfuge

Until it all plays out that

They can take cuts in the

Everything’s-Fine   waiting line

Instead of that

He keeps just missing her.

.

.

.

.

Yesterday at the yoga class

I was asked to  exhale out

All inside I saw as unsettled.

And all this matter  turned to air.

Then, intake air. More awake.  More aware.

Leave a Comment »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: