Poetry2ponder's Blog

“The Muse” by Trevor Witt

Beyond the trumpet,
Behind the violin,
There is a muse,
A beautiful manifestation of the divine,
Inspiring heart beats and causing tears to spring forth,
Like rain in the moonlight,
Underneath the stars of dreams.

The piano strokes her,
The violin sings to her,
The trumpet seeks to to impress her,
And the lyricist endeavors to reach into her soul,
But nothing comes close to conveying the true beauty of the muse.

For her soul encapsulates all of existence,
Her simplicity demystifies all complexities,
And, after you meet, you become someone different,
Neither more or less than you were before,
But infinitesimal and infinite at the same time.

And you are returned to the Source.

“Too Exhausted To Sleep” by Trevor Witt

I am getting a headache,
Caused by a lack of sleep,
Too much coffee,
Not enough coffee,
Self-doubt,
And politics –

A headache like no other,
Followed by pains in my ankles,
From running too much,
Working on my feet for eight hours a day,
And standing too still in the meantime,
Waiting for my fate to greet me and wake me up.

I am too damn tired to care,
But I cannot sleep,
I cannot give in,
Give in to that voice,
Which says that I am helpless,
That you are helpless, that we are helpless,
I am too tired to care whether this leads me to stress,
Whether this leads to ulcers or sleepless nights or headaches.

I am too damn tired to care
About the pain I feel by feeling.
Numbness is too painful,
Numbness is a quick death, but a slow life,
A life where nothing brings joy, where all is sorrow,
A life where everything is given up but the past,
Numbness is believing nothing will change today or tomorrow.

I am too exhausted to sleep.
This dissonance must be resolved.
We all need harmony.

“Sometimes” by Trevor Witt

Sometimes, nothing lines up.
You are running late,
To pick up your friend,
For the party,
Which you found out about last minute,
And then you get a phone call,
You are needed at work early in the morning tomorrow.

The party will have to wait.

Sometimes, everything goes wrong.
You are running late for work,
For your shift which started at six in the morning,
And your boss forgot batteries for the camera,
Which you were supposed to remember if he forgot.
So you have to go back to the office,
And the people you are supposed to videotape will have to wait.
They will not be happy.

Sometimes, you get stuck in traffic,
And you have to wait for hours in order to get ten miles.

But other times,
Providence favors you.

The party was broken up by the police,
And several party goers were arrested for dealing drugs,
The witnesses were all kept for hours to give detailed testimonies.

Sometimes, you catch a break.

The clients were not prepared for the shoot,
And requested that you postpone it until the afternoon.

Sometimes, you don’t know how lucky you are.

You missed being part of the traffic accident ten miles ahead of you,
Because you left twenty minutes later than you intended to.

Sometimes…

“Giving Up Nothing” by Trevor Witt

Throwing up while on the toilet,
With a throbbing headache pounding my brain,
Chills throughout my body,
As my stomach attempts to expel the toxins,
This is what I am giving up.

Waking up in the hospital,
After hitting my head,
Unable to remember it,
And unaware of how I got there,
That was the worst part.
This is what I am giving up.

Using a friend,
Or being used,
Frivolous, joyous encounters,
Facilitated by that relaxation,
Which comes with inebriation,
My crutch I use to decompress,
That is what I am giving up.

I want to be able to wake up without headaches.
I want to be able to remember every mistake I make.
I want to learn to walk with my lover without crutches.

I am giving up nothing,
And it feels good.