with a spark
a single focused shining point of glorious chaotic unbounded potential
that skyrockets luminously, whirling and twirling
until, gradually, the long, slow, patient pull of Gravity
exerts its ponderous effect
as life and vision intersect
and to the heroes now it seems
That their fine nucleus of dreams
Suspended oddly in the air
Requires work to keep it there –
So (thoughtlessly at first) they play the game
And place their stellar burst within a frame
Which, for some slight expenses here and there
Will place convenient fences at the bare
Chaotic darkened borders of the net.
They try, between their orders, to forget –
But paying for the fee, some bits were trimmed
And imperceptibly the light is dimmed
And something, neither black nor filled with fire
Tugs innocently backward toward the mire
Until at last, one day the gleaming rise
Is seen the ancient way through youthful eyes –
With nothing new to say, the glimmer dies –
With nothing new to say, the glimmer dies –
With nothing new to say, the glimmer dies –
And so comes an ending that is decidedly unpoetic.

I wrote this in November of 2005. It may not make a lot of sense without some interpretation. I wanted to show what it’s like to pursue a dream: the initial burst of excitement, the gradual introduction of structure and organization to keep the dream going, the way parts of the dream may be sacrificed for pragmatism along the journey, and the way the initial spark sometimes gets finally buried in a mire of logistics. The structure of the poem (rhyme, meter, punctuation, capitalization, repetition) was deliberate and carefully chosen to reflect the content.

Of course, other interpretations are possible as well.

3 responses to ““Progression”

  1. Makes me think of Rick Wakeman, or maybe Jethro Tull.

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