deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Problem.

Like an unsolveable problem,
a task beyond the pale,
the impasse rises
 like a cloud
approaching overhead.

Burnt bridges can be rebuilt
but the initial arson cannot be
dropped as easily
 as autumn leaves.
It bounces back into present attention
the elephant in the room,
uncaged but uncertain.

You can whet an appetite with wonder
yet still stand
still
like an observer watching a hot air balloon
rise over a hill.

Skeletons in cupboards get noisy
much preferable to elephants
(less costly)
however they clutter the cluster of spaces
better populated by tidy thoughts,
in the drawers of the mind.

You cannot tell fire, to "play nice"
you know the risks and roll the dice.
Some things seem better left dead
but what if zombies haunt your dreams
and refuse to be silent instead?
What then?
and if not now, then when?

A decision which will echo down the ages
worthy of the wisdom of  sages
would solutions come from the book of changes
float out from the ideograms on its pages
could so devious a dilemma meet to its ranges.

That furrowed face
that furrowed brow
swats at the worry
avoidantly "NOT NOW" "NOT NOW".
What then?
and if not now, then when?

only time and season can see
what I understand
plain sighted and unspoken
the remedy, is up to ME !

(About wanting to see my nephew again but my family are shitty)
Written by ScottSF21
Published
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