In Search Of A Drink

 

Clues littered and strewn upon old and new ground

Where the past meets the present to stir sight and sound

Seeking to dig up an old buried fountain

That rests neath the peak of a treacherous mountain

Up climb all the dreamers

Gravity pulls them back down

 

Clenched at the ready to defend and to strike

Along the internal maze of this perilous hike

Through the innermost reaches of deceptive journey

From the womb to the run to the crawl for the gurney

Pedalling madly uphill

On a stationary bike

 

Time, the hunter/director, closing in for the kill

If we don’t read our lines then who the hell will?

Guilt for the pleasure that’s paid for with pain

Penance for losses leeching fuel from each gain

Faster the frame rate rolls

Pattern and patter of familiar drill

 

Whispers from shadows that hide in the night

Choices from voices that urge ‘get it right’

Pictures unclear from continuous smudging

Looking over our shoulders to see who is judging

Mounts the frustration and secreted shame

Elicits submission and compels the flight

 

Sans honour it’s only with thorns we’re anointed

Morality inscribed with a quill double jointed

Minions of madness come along for the ride

Off lofty ledges we all jump for our pride

The signs are all there

They’re just poorly pointed

 

Clues littered and strewn upon old and new ground

Where the past meets the present to stir sight and sound

Seeking to dig up an old buried fountain

That rests neath the peak of a treacherous mountain

We just wanted a drink

We all knew we would drown

 

 

                                         s. paul   (Jan. 2021)