Dark Poetry #3 |
The Elusive Endurant |
RSWells Member Elite
since 2001-06-17
Posts 2533 |
Summer of sufferance, its protracred pain an apt period to the sentence of twenty years of the night raven's screech. As a boy his anxiety would be described to the ten percent father as "I can't jump over the stick", arched back, gasped "I can't jump over the stick" He felt if he could just stay on his feet, erect, he would not be brought low. If he could keep moving, sharklike, stand splay legged arms akimbo, a turnstile, a windmill. If he could multiply he'd secure his space. His was a ceaseless arena, thinking this was life. His grimace may have cost him his soul. The pain was real. The Grand Illusion his overdue collapse; "Whirling pert appealing pony what rapt temptation was your ride, calliopean cacophony and Trojan paint that he supplied." "A circuitous rendition the maddened music in his head, just an added apparition the frightened palomino fled" Still erect not yet over the stick. |
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© Copyright 2002 Richard S. Wells jr. - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
The endurance rider will hang in there until that stick is far behind. |
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bsquirrel
since 2000-01-03
Posts 7855 |
Ah, RSWells, you are most welcome here. I'm glad you decided to post this piece here. I'm taking this at a different level than others, perhaps. But let's just say, I'm glad to have not been a teen for the past 5 years. |
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