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greystones

i'm thinking i should stand as still as possible,
or more,
so as not to do irreparable harm,
cause a cacophony of crashing
cascading out from me in concentric circles.
there are atoms everyere,
aren't there?
i,
for one,
am wrapped up in and strung out
on cells, through and through.
and it seems its all connected,
strands of life and matter
tangled and tethered,
weaving us all together:
me,
the bricks, the grey billows,
all these candy wrappers and tombstones.
and so when my every move results in ramifications, when
every breath is affective,
i am thinking
i should not unwind.
when every now has consequences confounding,
i should stand as still as possible.
i will try not to breathe.
holding my death,
grey and statuesque,
i will cause nothing.

greg.

Comments

Amanda Wardle said…
Sometimes things are so exaggerated and even the tiniest flutter seems to cause a tidal wave. Blasted. But then...fluidity...like a symphony...and it wouldn't be possible without each part...

Lovely poetry, stranger. Enjoying that, and your art, too, (Libby B offered the direction). Oh yes, and the little matter of that darling little boy. :)
greg. said…
amanda wardle! so good to hear from you! welcome to agentorange records. this poem is one of those that represents what i was feeling at a particular moment. it is not a philosophy of life for me, but there are moments...

glad you are visiting. i'd love to know what you are up to and how you are doing.

greg.
amanda wardle said…
Ah yes, definitely understand that.

I am mostly up to being a mom to 3-year-old Selah, getting paid to edit potentially useless educational materials, blending a family with fiance Benjamin and his son Jakob, and rockin here in Dayton Ohio. :)

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