Sunday, January 2, 2011

the price of patience is some form of survival



the price of patience is some form of survival;
a principal reason he remains so.

just once, if the sea allowed him, perhaps
he'd walk on her surfaces, headed your way.
even then, i wonder: would he perish,

less of voyager's terminal exhaustion
than a puerile eagerness for arrivals
and rancor

for certain
consequence?

for this final solution is but binary in nature—
surcease not to be cherished one particular way.

i think ...


7 comments:

Wine and Words said...

Okay...as always, I wish I were brilliant enough to fully understand your verse...but the reason patience is patient is survival? I land here and wonder, for this is my mantra this year. To wait. No rash decisions or judgements, but simply to wait...small and without wing, waiting for flight or grounding...either being allowed and accepted. It is so incredibly difficult. For me, there has never been a harder rock, nor hard place.

Noxalio said...

well, Annie, waiting, in and of itself is not a bad thing whatsoever, and as you know patience is a virtue in some or most instances ... but it certainly can be habit making, and as with all addictions can be fraught with consequence ... so, to that end, beware ... be deliberate, when you choose to be patient ... (ermmm, i think, it's what i'm saying here, sometimes these poems take-off and go where they please, so i cannot be certain, it's not science as you know) ... but, i think what i hear you say is that you're determined to subdue the "rash" portion of the equation and for that i salute you!

Shadow said...

send it my way, patience is not my virtue!

Wine and Words said...

Yes. Sometimes to undo a knot is to unravel. One must be certain...if there is such a thing. I am not patient by nature. The though of me habitually patient makes me laugh. But who knows? I'll be wary.

Noxalio said...

Shadow, i'm pleased to introduce you to Wine and Words; and Annie, this is Shadow ...

neither one all that patient i gather ...

psst, class starts in ten minutes, so, in the meantime socialize ...

ha ha

but seriously, this one is just junk ... it stinks ... i hate it, i might delete it, if by nightfall tomorrow it still smells as it does tonight ...

thank you both for stopping over nonetheless.

forgetmenow said...

ohhh you .. you hate this? why? i know the feeling and the call of the delete button, just give it a little while ... rework it in draft ...

i know it sounds daft but ... what did you really really want to say if not this? that's what i interrogated myself with at my last deletion ...

it's a fantastic pic ... kind of michael parkes-ish (tho i know it's not - i looked) ... love those idea-sketches above, like imagination/hope/thought ... extension maybe ... like that neck

Noxalio said...

oh Shell, it's always the same darned thing ...

how can one be, at once, resigned yet zealot ... by now you well know the theme ...

and in this one the tension between the two refuses to surface, as though the poem itself is fighting, let alone the underlying emotion(s) ...

i suppose it will have to stay a calendar entry ...

how've you been, Shell? Happy New Year by the way ... i hope this one is kind to you ...