in Uncategorized 97 Words

overzealous

this is the last of it,
the horizon
barely discernible
through the fume.
I have been relentless
but the echo has grown loud
refusing to be ignored.
I burned
the hallowed ground
we built.
trampled over the bush.
I am overzealous.
flawed so
gifted so
I’ve whittled down the pace
in the hopes-
in the fruitless hopes..
it is with them I hang
smirking still
through vexed withdrawal.
sly still
in silken flowing shawls.
it’s true,
I’ve caught on now.
we are the river
in the wind
and the breeze
is all but gone.

– Sheila Sea

44 thoughts on “overzealous”

  7. Deja vu, a lot of your words in this poem remind me of this song:

    Glad you are writing more often again it seems! I like this poem Sheila.

    I wrote the poem below on April 14, 2014, months after a woman I had given a ring to years earlier, returned it on February 1, 2014. I was always imagining her eyes on me. Your focusing in your writing on shorelines and rivers strum up recent memories of how last November, her eyes did indeed rest on me, while I was out on the river, and she was watching me from the shoreline. I am still stuck on her, all these years later, since she burnt the bridge with me when I was 23, and I see her ghost everywhere, in a lot of people. She’s not dead, but she’s no longer in my life, so in a sense she is. Really, I’m dead to her now, and it’s really me that is the ghost, with unfinished business, unable to move on completely from the past.

    She’s the friend I mentioned to you in my first comment on your blog. I don’t really think you are her, but you remind me of her. It’s happened so many times, me thinking people I come across online are her, which is what I meant in my first comment, talking about not being able to believe incredible coincidences mean anything anymore, because I’ve been wrong so many times. I myself was overzealous with her, and it pushed her away. I wish there was some other way things could some how work out with her, but I lost my chances, she was incredibly patient with me, but I wasn’t with her. Technically she burned the bridge between us when I was 21, but she did it with finality when I was 23, leaving no question in my mind that it was over. In reality, a lot of people remind me of her, because like attracts like, and similar minds find each other, and I suppose she and I were similar in some ways.

    “Common Sentiments (Tanka)”
    by Ry Hakari

    Before services,
    they play ‘Common Sentiments’
    upon my heartstrings,
    strumming up fond memories,
    which starts my mind’s wandering

    Imagining eyes,
    on me — surely instinct lies
    of dream look-a-likes
    when celibate ’til a time
    when awake in real life…

    It’s not a church song,
    doesn’t work like Halcyons’ —
    It’s lyrics’ matchsticks
    light a passionate Phoenix
    who’s had it burning alone…

    Unpinned pinions, singe —
    When pigeon’s heartstrings unhinge,
    they turn red-orange
    Smoke distorts the congregants
    and surrounds me with flawed clones

    Common sentiment’s
    peculiar predicaments —
    lab experiments?
    Faulty hypotheses cross
    my thoughts while lost wandering

    Archetype’s anti’s
    never measure for measure
    or live up to hype
    ’cause wrong can’t replace what’s right
    or capture this love’s essence…

    ——————————————-

    “Common Sentiments”
    by Typhoon

    Oh what am I waiting for?
    A spell to be cast or for it to be broken?
    At the very last
    Some white ghost from my past comes to split me wide open, oh

    If I bandage my eyes, will you press in my hand a small simple token?
    I was born deaf or else you’ve never spoken

    I thought it was safe for me and my own,
    I began hearing these voices in the dial tone
    And they come to me now, though I dismembered my phone

    They said you want to hear something that you already know,
    If it comes from above, well, this one comes from below.
    It says, “You are sleeping together, but you will die alone.”

    I thought it was safe but the seed had been sown,
    As a child I aspired to be a super hero.
    Now I live with the corpses of the lives I let go,
    Oh I know you all know how these things start to show.

    I’ve been trying to make myself better,
    So I can fare the fair foul weather.
    I write a song like a prison letter.
    I write a song maybe to make me feel better,
    It won’t break free my fetters.

    oooooooooOOOOOOO-OOOHHHHHH!!!

    I know what came after, but what happened before?
    I began making memories at the age of four.
    Well I learned to use words,
    I got jealous and bored
    Soon I’ll be passing out cold on the kitchen floor
    Soon I’ll be passing out cold on the kitchen floor.

    Singing,
    When am I gonna feel better?
    I said when am I gonna feel better?
    I said when am I gonna feel better?
    I have been patient for a long time now.

    I’ve been the patient for a long time now
    I’ve been the patient for a long time now
    I’ve been the patient for a long time now
    And I will never be a younger man now

    1! 2! 1, 2, 3! 4, 5, 6!

    Oh what am I waiting for?
    A spell to be cast or for it to be broken!
    At the very last!
    Some white ghost from my past comes to split me wide open, oh!

    If I hold out my hand
    There’s nothing at all!
    And nothing’s a token!

    I will be good though my body be broken
    (I will be good though my body be broken)
    I will be good though my body be broken
    (I will be good though my body be broken)
    I will be good though my body be broken, oh-oh-ohhh
    (I will be good though my body be broken)
    I will be good though my body be broken, oh-oh! oh-oh! OH!
    (I will be good though my body be broken)
    I will be good though my body be broken! oh-oh-ohhh
    (I will be good though my body be broken)
    I will be good though my body be broken! oh-oh-oohh!
    (I will be good though my body be broken)
    I will be good though my body be broken! oh-oh-oohhh
    (I will be good though my body be broken)

    I will be good, may I want for nothing at all.

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    1. Oh, and the “silken flowing shawls” reminded me of the first music video in my new post from yesterday at http://21shadesofblue.com/2015/01/14/mermaid-wife-of-poseidon-haiku/ if you are curious, and the music video below (one of my favorites). It’s a beautiful, inspiring image, silken flowing shawls. One of my favorites in general, actually, and my favorite in your poem. I’ve written on it numerous times, such as “Heal my crippled, ripped and crumpled wings / Keep them scarlet and still more silken in this storm” back on February 1, 2006!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  14. Burned bridges — resolution into dissolution — isolation and a fatalistic sense of inevitability with a mix of lack of control. Nothing like “I think that I shall never see” frill. I’m not sure I see the hope that Kate Houck picks up on:

    in the hopes-
    in the fruitless hopes..
    it is with them I hang
    smirking still

    A taunting of last-ditch desperate magical thinking to me.

    Interesting how poems are interpreted differently by different people, yes?

    Thought-provoking, Sheila.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. haha, you really are wonderful to have around. Your interpretation is the closest to my own.. Its definitely isolation, withdrawal, giving up.. there is no hope. There was at some point but it was fruitless.

      It’s incredibly interesting and its my favorite part of posting. I love to see what people think. How I make them feel.. There’s no wrong or right. There’s only what I’ve written and how you see it.

      Like

      Reply

  15. Hello, and good day. I just wanted to express my personal appreciation for your poetry. Thank you for sharing your creative pieces. You are a fabulous writer and you have a way with words that is very inspiring as well.I’m currently following your blog and hope to read more of your great poems.Blessings.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  17. This is so powerful, raw and visual. It’s one of those poems you want to read over and over again. When I’m reading it, it’s as if I’m inhaling it, as strange as that might sound! It seems to hit all my senses. So yes, I love it! 🙂 Thank you for the follow, I’m really pleased to have found your blog.

    Liked by 1 person

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  21. Oh my gosh – this is brilliant. The word “whittled” is one I think I’m in love with now – thanks for reminding me of it. Also the breeze and the river in the wind? That’s genius right there!

    Liked by 2 people

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  22. The futility of it all and yet…hope can be such a tenacious little thing…slipping in through the cracks..
    LOVE the intensity in your poems! They are so wonderfully raw! They pulse with life.
    Thank you so much for the follow! I am so glad to have found your blog!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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