A Hesitation Spawned Through Over-Anylysing The Importance Of First Impressions

As prolific as I can be I straggle along when decisions are anything more than theoretical

As in touch, as I feel to be, with the muses that persistently confront me, knowing just what to say here or there, when I reach a point where so much must be said, this becomes the most daunting task of darkened dread

And I ask myself…WHY?

                                Am I tongue-tied and stifled

                                         Lost amidst a sea of words

                                         Perspiring for no reason

WHY…

I could write a biography, chapter upon chapter, of what there is to tell, what there is to know, and yet, within those populous of words, none work as well, as hello.

Then what comes next…how does one matriculate from salutation to unearthing life’s mysteries.  Well, perhaps someplace in-between.

And as I hem and as I haw, doubt creeps in and intensifies it all.

What is there to fear?

What’s the worst that can happen?

Right?

Pressure Pitched

Gang nasty and the bard of bricks
Littered lanes of cardboard motels
or were they mausoleums?

Pacified northwestern time fringed
Zapped by the contextual pop-ups
clustering closed
Delete.  Delete.  Delete.

Bases loaded.  .355 lifetime hitter at the plate.
Tie game. bottom of the 8th.
Heart of the lineup due up top
If only this last bat could fall
I'd be the hero
well at least I wouldn't be the goat
perspiration blisters
Head to hair
Sweeping beads of sweat to mound
Pausing, pausing- they won't run
Catchers signing ones and threes
But I can't even see
as my mind is singing verse, thought upon thought-

" who's on deck, buster, he's never hit off me, he's 2-33 lifetime batting with bases loaded,"

" If they take him out who's left off the bench"

Statistics flow like streams alive- one upon the other carousing the breadth of choice-

"It's the grandest of all stages- would it be crazy to walk him, that would give them a one run lead, but I know I can get the next guy- is it a gamble- yes, is it a calculated risk- perhaps"

A bird flutters amongst the darkening skies
Into the grayest cloud he disappears
and the drops suddenly appear
As the public address announcer tells the fans
I sigh a breath of relief
As I know the tarps will roll out soon

An Agreement to Speak

Asked for my participation or my funding,

I agreed to donate my voice,

And Speak to a community of their choosing,

These decision makers could not have known,

The language which spews from my pursed lips,

Many would critique some of what I had in mind,

As ill appropriate for those contained,

Nevertheless I spoke in a half-shade,

Dimly delving, diluted

Altered companioned style,

Yet still, scholars they call themselves,

I may disagree,

I will not label,

As I do not have knowledge,

And even then,

I would not lower myself to such a degree,

Yet, I must confess,

I found it hard, very difficult,

Speaking to those who were advertised as such,

Yet from the blank gazes gathered,

Discussing modernity

To a congregation of aborigines