Sunday, July 10, 2005

Ripples In The Rug

 

This ache only lingers.
Knowing it won't dissappear
hope it settles to numbness
but my doubts make me fear.  

So difficult to find clarity
when ears are plugged
to other's struggling voice
when there's a ripple in the rug.  

Duty bound to respond
to outburst of creeping pain.
When a constant declaration
tells one of the coming rain.  

Each infraction imagined
creates more than a crack
when the coupling of a team
shows such constant lack.  

Stuck on stupid must be
intelligence big waste.
Philosophizing acceptance
to the flavor of your own taste.  

Of course we all will stumble
when debris presents a tug.
The trash of doubt trips us
when there's a ripple in the rug.  

This ache still lingers
like a scratch not healed
cause the juice of an orange
irritates when its pealed.  

Constant struggling
always defending truth 
finding her forever acting
like a high paid sleuth.  

Doubts seem to me
the crushing blow of love.
Never allowing ease of order
but always a painful shove.  

Lovers who wish to share
can't hold on to dubious ways.
Expectations flounder
and adds to the pain of days.  

As this lurching ache
hangs on like a disgusting hug
reality tells me, its over, cause
there's too many ripples in the rug.  

Del Cano 2005 July
 
 
 

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Beautiful!!  Excellent poem!
Glad I came upon your journal.
I'd add you to my Journal Links, for sure!
(p.s. Thank you for the nice email)
Tina

Anonymous said...

Gorgeous Spencer.  Another winner :)

Dawn