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I’m grasping for that one clear moment September 9, 2015

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry.
Tags: ,

I don’t have a Stephen King thing going on

and as far as I can tell I won’t be in a band of famous friends

who don’t think of themselves as unusual

just better than average musicians but great storytellers.

Is there a bus I can take away from professional jealousy?

Or is this as good as it gets after decades practicing the craft?

No and yes, if that’s the destination I’m binding myself to

I won’t make it to the level of cat video viewership or even

a Ted Nugent diatribe, visitors clamoring all about it.

My path is blocked, in part by myself and in part

forces beyond my ability to grasp and still I sit

imagining the keyboard at my fingers might one day possess

magical powers of Chesterton, Poe or King himself.

Charlatans will bow to my imagination and critics will grovel

and I will laugh a sinister laugh without humor toward them.

Maybe I’ve written my future and I’m going to mope like Jonah,

set aside by God and no one knows what really happens to me

but that is just as well, having denied my merit for lesser things.

Ideas are monkeys flying from unsightly orifices, smelling

unpleasant and mounting wings away as quickly as they appeared.

As I’m grasping for that one clear moment Craig Fuller sang about

when he had his cup of coffee with Little Feat, I’m looking for that

that thing burning with desire, consumed by passion and leaves

no soul left for saving, no body left uncharred, no heart inflated

with a gift of hope, charity banished and spirit vanquished.

Listen to me go on – have a glass of Merlot and let’s forget this

and reach for something out of reach, something longing for our touch.



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