There isn’t enough inside me anymore. All the words
came from a stream of consciousness that lasted
for five years. Now it is a dry gully, parched.
My thought patterns in couplets and tercets have
become singularly disconnected paper lanterns
lost in the wind or shredded in leftover imagination.
Now it is time to look outward. Now it is time
to face the world in all its confusion, mania, darkness
and terrible beauty.
There isn’t time to be overly cautious,
time has become a relentless companion
reminding and reminding as the slip of sand on glass
reverberates just beyond the horizon.
No more hiding behind the words, behind imagined
scenes, personalities, behind the calculations of the mind.
No, now is the time for engagement – reengagement
with the world as it presents itself to senses long
turned inward, atrophied, stunted, starved.
Today I will turn to the world outside.
Today I am in freefall from the safety of theory.
Today I will feel the ground beneath my feet
I will let that feeling be the story I tell at the end of the day.
Poetry on the run 
feeling ya here, ron.
I have given up pressuring myself to produce anything.
And also given up beating myself up for not producing.
It’ll come back around.
When it’s ready.
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I’m in my 60s and I haven’t reached this point yet/ I honestly hope you’ve been honest, and have
g.r.
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I’m 61 and while I make up a lot of BS in my poems, in this one I tried to be honest, no tricks, no Copperfield, just my barenaked thoughts. I really have the feeling that I have run out of words to say what I think/feel about what I experience. Something about my way of writing has to change or I’ll give it up for another hobby, maybe ice fishing. So now I am trying to change the way I think about the World. It is difficult but I like the results so far. Anyway, this is a very long way of saying that yes, in this poem I am honest.
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So Ron, amazing images to show a descent into reality. I was just finding poetry again after our election debacle when we started the process of redoing a line of credit. Let me tell you banks were founded just to suck all imaginations from the earth. Seriously your writing as always is vivid and painting worthy.
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I have had to sequester myself from the world since #45 was elected. For long periods of time I have thought of poetry and little else. It is an undeserved luxury at this point in my life but not one I can easily turn away from under the circumstances. I have begun to experiment with more overtly political poetry. It is a struggle to avoid cliche and jingoism, as well as control my blood pressure, but I’m learning. As always Jan thank you so much for reading and commenting.
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