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JOURNAL #27 the challenge
this is my victory
silence
the undertone of life
so many glorious laps
still await we runners
dogged mule
standing just to the side
timing the wind at my heels
pained achievement
breathless in the after rush
those defeated
cry
behind their own exhausted eyes
looking angrily upon
the streak of my flexing calves
as they go by
another thorn of fierce determination
is bloodily pulled from my hurt pride
the crowd smiles at the winner
this thing in which no one being can
ever truly be
not here
not in this place
but for this fleeting moment
all believe I am such a label
thus so
I allow my heaving body
to be pinned by one of many
such vague labels
mankind so enjoys bestowing
upon his peers
winner
captain
president
queen
gold medalist
humanitarian etc...........
joy at such moments is but a
hollow illusion
holding too brief of a hostage
the feelings of early day mediocrity
that vie to be viewed and experienced
by all human inhabitants of the physical
plane
murderers do their part in attempt to keep
the corner market on the higher side of the
public's attention and CNN lives up to such
aspirations
by displaying their horrific crimes in such
graphic accuracy
the outlet you see doesn't really matter
because in one frame or another
all of us have outlets
running and murder are only two of them
poetry ( grin)
(though on a much smaller scale of course)
is another
I rest my case
but note
will never for very long
hold my opinionated tongue............
(written April 22, 2002 1145am)
