Circular Reference
Morning, she wakes
tired eyes, tears
Soft lips touch soft skin
in a fluffy white bed.
What the f is going on in my head?
Everyday the same, every day the sane,
everyway the shame, the pain.
Sunlight evaporates the remains of the morning rain.
Each day is loosely connected by a patchwork
of forgotten dreams
and to do lists that go undone
on quite a regular basis
Each formula I enter is met with
a circular reference
but underneath it all is the true fabric of
my existence
I've learned to become numb to the inane,
and often times innocuous requests that cross
my desk as director of fill in the blank
Yet I believe that everything is possible
and that we shouldn't take anything for granted
each second is yet a smaller piece of a much larger puzzle
that I've been working on for some time now
there are so many pieces and time is such
that I've taken to putting it together in a random fashion
which is how I approach each day
again a circular reference
but grueling as it might appear
sections of the puzzle slowly become clear
and the challenge of completing another section
allows me to miraculously escape
the perils of that parallel universe
known only as the "real world"
each morn, an out stretched hand holds a cup of coffee
as we queue it up in front of the slaughterhouse
I'm really not running any risks, because it's all connected
as I make progress on my puzzle, I'm able to side step the cattle
with the speed of a sprinter and the mind of a Buddha
now I can focus on the task at hand
yes I still worry about providing,
but I don't feel the pressure I used to feel
like I was supposed to save the world or something
I guess my puzzle work has showed me
that I'm nothing and in reality that's everything.
that's all. no heavy lifting.
(written 4/02/05)
©2005 Sean Muzzy
tired eyes, tears
Soft lips touch soft skin
in a fluffy white bed.
What the f is going on in my head?
Everyday the same, every day the sane,
everyway the shame, the pain.
Sunlight evaporates the remains of the morning rain.
Each day is loosely connected by a patchwork
of forgotten dreams
and to do lists that go undone
on quite a regular basis
Each formula I enter is met with
a circular reference
but underneath it all is the true fabric of
my existence
I've learned to become numb to the inane,
and often times innocuous requests that cross
my desk as director of fill in the blank
Yet I believe that everything is possible
and that we shouldn't take anything for granted
each second is yet a smaller piece of a much larger puzzle
that I've been working on for some time now
there are so many pieces and time is such
that I've taken to putting it together in a random fashion
which is how I approach each day
again a circular reference
but grueling as it might appear
sections of the puzzle slowly become clear
and the challenge of completing another section
allows me to miraculously escape
the perils of that parallel universe
known only as the "real world"
each morn, an out stretched hand holds a cup of coffee
as we queue it up in front of the slaughterhouse
I'm really not running any risks, because it's all connected
as I make progress on my puzzle, I'm able to side step the cattle
with the speed of a sprinter and the mind of a Buddha
now I can focus on the task at hand
yes I still worry about providing,
but I don't feel the pressure I used to feel
like I was supposed to save the world or something
I guess my puzzle work has showed me
that I'm nothing and in reality that's everything.
that's all. no heavy lifting.
(written 4/02/05)
©2005 Sean Muzzy
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