A 750-word Poem In One Breath

A 750-word Poem In One Breath

Don’t ever pause

I have been diligently writing my 750words every. Tonight, I had nothing to say, so I thought I’d blurt out a 750 word poem in one breath, without stopping. Technically it’s 761 words, but who’s counting? I am subjecting you to this not because it’s a good poem, but because it’s a fast poem. And it was fun to write.

Let’s be honest, I must lie
do or make or cause to cry
and take your hand from far away
it’s used to only slap and pray
and see if I just watch and wait
while all the others give and take
this may be nothing, all a joke
but you’ll forgive me what I wrote
and if we fall into a hole
once and for all we’ll know our role
in which the play plays out its play
while you’ve forgotten yesterday
it is too late to wonder why
each day and night I pass you by
to see if you will notice me
or if you’ve seen my fleeting glee
to take us to that very place
where none are caught despite the chase
investigate the mother’s yarn
into the other’s loving arm
you’ve never seen me take a thing
while dancing into brilliant spring
each fuck and fancy builds to this
yet started with an empty kiss
beware the rending of a heart
it finishes without a start
but never knows a single dance
or makes a thing bereft of chance
and never runs into the wall
or curls itself into a ball
of fate will not allow portents
or random silly accidents
not walk not run not move a bit
for fear of losing all of it
to theft of joy or bully thus
then takes so much from each of us
that such is known but much is lost
into a fading muddy past
when each and only runs aground
we only ever hear the sound
of fools and creatures lost in time
who take and get and say “that’s mine!”
should never live to see the day
in june or august, march or may
into the darkness shining dim
and gasp at every thought of him
who makes the sunlight take its leave
and all the happy ones bereave
to wander into lonely rooms
beneath a single sad mushroom
that sprang from filth left far behind
and into crust of earth and rind
go further onward within reach
until the darkness has been breached
it screams a mighty fearful scream
and tells each of us what to dream
for fear of wondering aloud
those things we know are not allowed
it cannot be it only seems
that singing is the sound of dreams
all wrapped in bows of false and fake
another empty dawn will break
we see yet we cannot defend
our actions or our riches lend
a hand or other limb to those
who’ve sliced the thorn off from the rose
and petals drift among the clouds
to silence agonizing crowds
of those without and those within
who speak of solitude and sin
and sex and will we ever come
and when and if we might have some
in time it shows a perfect time
a way in which those things sublime
writhe into out of up and down
pushing deeper under ground
we mold our habits foolishly
while others trip and fall and flee
but all is wonderful and rich
and sounds deliver perfect pitch
with ear to door and wall and earth
we hear the glowing after birth
but fail to know what is to come
our ending is beginnings womb
for someone elsewhere out to play
another sense of feigned dismay
so that we feel each other’s pain
cannot be washed away by rain
or weather not meant to be known
a blinding light is never shown
until the bottom rung we grasp
unfastening the final clasp
it falls way under the bed
never too be seen or said
that if we cannot hide our need
and wear it all out on our sleeve
then take and take and give and get
but lose that goddamn safety net
for fear of falling keeps us down
as if we’ve never left the ground
so rise and touch and tamper with
that softer smaller one who is
beneath you when you feel as low
when nothing is allowed to grow
and reach and pull and grunt and tug
into the whole that you have dug
around and in and up and down
there is no scream when losing ground
it takes away the final groan
and sends the other far from home
we’ve never looked into this breach
and now we fear it’s out of reach
but once we twisted wrapped and warm
with pleasure covering the harm
and you and I and nearby sleep
(I pray there is a soul to keep)
we barely notice when the quiver
changes to a shameful shiver