My borrowed ambition pen:
doodling,
noodling,
sketching,
trying to find
what was lost
trying to arrange
what is in disarry
trying to make sense of
what doesn't make sense of
Like a mind of its own,
it’s searching the shadows of my understanding,
probing into my broken heart
looking for the indestructible black box
that holds the secrets
to what went wrong
My borrowed ambition pen
is travelling deep into outer space now,
chasing comets of lost love,
skirting the gravitational pulls
of black hole disaster zones
where nobody knows… knows what there
is there and nobody can.
What is it learning?
What does it know?
When it gets back to earth
we’ll have a party
to study the complete map of the emotional cosmos
called me,
and we’ll put big red danger ‘X’s
on certain spots,
and never never go there
except by accident,
or if we have to because of true love again
Only this time I’ll have a new,
re-enforced space suit,
and extra oxygen tanks
and plenty of food,
in case I get stranded
for a long time,
and probably a homing beacon
so you can come rescue me,
all you people who were at my universe party
and warned me not to go there,
but knew I would,
because who can hold back
where love and hearts are concerned,
and who would want to anyway?
My borrowed ambition pen
is like anti-kryptonite,
boosting my strength to super human levels,
and I’m using it to chop down
forests of primal delusions
where – by gum! – it’s still beating:
this old heart,
this old forgotten heart.
It looks like we got here in the nick of time, too,
but it always feels like that,
doesn’t it?
-Jim DuBois
1 comment:
I often feel the same way....
That's a real good one, Jim.
I read it three times and I still like it! :)
Post a Comment