racing like a pro -- now

You're pink you're young you're middle-class
they say it doesn't matter
fifteen blue shirts and womanly hands
you're shooting up the ladder

Your mind is racing like a pro, now
oh my god it doesn't mean a lot to you
one time you were a glowing young ruffian
oh my god it was a million years ago
-- the national

inquire upon a heavy heart, a light mind and ever changing days
the soft caress of falling buds
a new spring
muted by the rush of life
settle into something more
a balance of love
acceptance
... reliability

your minds racing like a pro now,

they say it doesnt matter,



...

..

slip of sensability

" that's what happens, when you turn over -- when you let your sensibility slip.."
these words that were spoken to me, cut deep and hard,
through the layering clouds of uncertainty
consider this, that my sensible nature,
which i have trusted since youth,
somehow was ignored
but
a lesson learned
to return again
to the simple truths
the ever turning lessons
of growth
perhaps
stay true
to
" in the small matters trust the mind, in the large matters trust the heart.." - Sigmund Freud

stability

Time for the Final bout

Rows of Deserted houses..

all our stable mates are highway bound

Give us our measly sum:

getting the air inside my lung is heavenly.

We're starting out with nothing but crippling doubt

"I have suffered a swift defeat, I will endure countless repeats -- the gift of memory an awful curse" and yet, perhaps in the defeat we find that we truly do not mind - the rhythm of familiar places, emboldened faces and the stretch of an awakening dawn. all that is simple becomes

pertinent -- in embracing a new day.