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two days

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two days, I feel real
five days, I feel drugged, violated, in a death-trance

today, I feel like
I've been convicted of a crime
and yesterday was my last day of freedom
and today is the day I begin serving my sentence

today, I just want to feel good about something
I dig and dig, reaching for the light
but my shovel is no match for this large machinery
for every bucket I dig
a mountain is dumped back on me

I keep fooling myself
thinking I can maintain my grip
but it's spinning too fast
or I can stare just right
and the magic 3D image will come into focus
but today is not that day

there is a still place
a quiet place
a place of color
and soft light
of rest
and warmth
of everything fitting
and nothing missing

(early in the morning
I held you close
but I wanted to give you the chance to fall asleep again
and I didn't want to make you too warm
so I turned, moved away
bided my time)

I spend so little time there
I increasingly forget how to get back
and often I don't realize I'm there
until I realize I was just there
and now I'm not

I remember those words...
I do one thing at a time
I do it very well
Then I move on

As for now, I do many things at a time
I do none of them well,
and don't have the time to understand any of it
This is contrary to my bent
It's water in my lungs
air in my stomach
sand in my veins

five days it's like this
but these five days
pay for the two days it's not

so the question I wrestle with lately is
does one balance the other
is the pain worthy of the pleasure
the frustration worthy of the fruition

I will be shaken
but I will keep moving

© 2008 (14 april) john r. chase

...my umbrella seems a bit tattered...