Monday, April 14, 2014


I wish I knew what hurtled in the fray
To land in words emerging in my say.
I can’t see ten seconds ahead to know
What I’ll speak and what I’ll leave below.
I long for a hint of clairvoyancy
To waft soft inklings of buoyancy –
It’ll lift my spirits, soothe my plumbing,
To know beforehand what’s coming.
A short-term early future-sight:
A moment before a dog will bite;
A sense that two cars will collide;
The whiff of an avalanche, about to slide.
Or in the mundane scrape of life against life
Where smaller calamities are rife,
When woe had hardly started yet
Before the sounds and ears had met,
I’d shave a blinksworth off a guess
And pluck quick thinking from the mess.
Just a slice of soonerness, a shred,
Not hours, years, lifetimes ahead.
Just to know my own intentions
In case there need be interventions.
But yearning for this cheatful grace
I only see its positive face.
To live with a constant foretold dose
Of every moment, shuved up close,
Is likely to prove a deadly weight
I’ll be crushed by, not defeating, fate.
All the more forlornly lost
Paying this extra-feature cost
Of watching what I knew would be
Unfolding still unstoppably.
So I think I’ll stick with the Now I know
Carrying memories in tow
And loose myself to the Present tide
As painful as it is to ride.

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