Grex Poetry Conference Item 73

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Author

Message

Struggling

Apr 13 05:26 UTC 1999

I look ahead and see nothing but rocks,
Sharp and waiting
As if with nasty grins
And wet tongues licking stony lips.

I look behind and see nothing but rocks,
Sharp and waiting
Their faces already smeared with blood.
Blood they drank with eager malice.

I look at my feet,
Torn and dirty,
Scarred and bloody,
Tired and sore,
Yet, willing to move ahead.

I look ahead and see the spire of the top
Contemplating the heavens
With its nose so impossibly high.
I am an insect on its knees.

I look behind and see the cliffs
Stretching endlessly below
Down to the hungry rocks at the distant bottom
Barely seen.

I look at my hands,
Covered in blood and blisters,
Not strangers to such hard work.

I look beside me.
There, another pair of
Battered, bloody hands waits
Ready to help me move forward
One more step.

     -12 April, 1999

3 responses total.

toking

response 1 of 3:

Apr 13 16:09 UTC 1999

nice. I like this, I'd like it more if it didn't remind me so much of
that "Footsteps" thing you see all over the place (no offense meant, my
brain works a little funny lately)

lumen

response 2 of 3:

Apr 13 23:19 UTC 1999

Indubitably-- I didn't think of "Footprints" at all.

bookworm

response 3 of 3:

Apr 23 23:55 UTC 1999

no prob.  My poetry is often effected by everything around me.

No doubt, my poetry will be effected by Y'all when Jon and I come to 
visit in June.

Oh, well.  We'll see.

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