Overload

These are the days that run and run
Into each other; merge and blend,
Amorphous, seamless, never done,
When even sleep can bring no end
To thought; wake in sick certainty
The world is lining up to send
Another damned delivery
Of Way Too Much for me to do.
Tight panic rises, choking me
Like smoke from burning tyres. Through
The weary hours I wish that I
Could stop the clock, escape into
A quieter world, beneath a sky
Of speedwell blue, and walk apart
From all the toil and tumult; try
To find a place to rest my heart
And mind. But this is not my fate.
With each new dawn, I’m doomed to start
Again: no time to contemplate,
To breathe clean air or feel the sun;
Though I protest they will not wait,
Just shake their heads, reload the gun.
These are the days that run and run.

 

A quick terza rima thrown together in the midst of what my good friend Tom Davis calls ‘a long work jag’. I guess I should be glad to be busy, really, when so many are losing their jobs, but it starts to feel like too much of a good thing sometimes. This one goes out to everyone stepping back onto the treadmill this rainy Monday morn. N.

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2 thoughts on “Overload

  1. Ahh, this is the Nick Moore I really like. He knows what is important in life, but he also has this responsibility grained deep in his spirit and soul, so he goes at what he has to do as the days run and run. I relate so much to this poem–as I do to so many of your poems. I have been fortunate in that I have spent a good portion of my life working at things that I have been able to believe are important and good, but there are whole days sometimes when I am so busy that I literally do not have a half minute to think. I’m multi-tasking like crazy, trying to handle student complaints and problems while still moving the college forward into an ever greater excellence. I have
    no time to contemplate,
    To breathe clean air or feel the sun…
    and mostly I would like to find a cool stream to sit beside and inhale the glory of the world.
    I have decided to take the big leap and retire in April. The scholar and Editor Marjane Ambler said she can’t believe it. We’ll have to sell our house since we want to move to Wisconsin and Lake Michigan to be closer to our daughters. Maybe then I’ll know what it’s like not to run and run through days, losing time to a blur of activities. I’ll let you know, Nick, what it feels like.
    When are you going to try to put a book of poetry together?

    • Thank you, as always, Tom. Kudos for taking the big decision: from what I know of you, it will be an honourable and well-earned retirement, and you’ll leave some very big shoes for some poor soul to fill, if they can. N.

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