Ah, Daily Prompt – you are like the shrink miner, digging our every thought out of each of our headcaves, expertly cutting each multifaceted thought until it glitters and sparkles, and then forcing us to wear it out in public with those pants and that shirt. It’s just… Those aren’t my colors. I love cake. Christina Hendricks is pretty. I made my own dinner tonight. The word ‘pantaloons’ is funny. Libertarians make me giggle.
What you talkin’ bout, Willis? Helplessness: that dull, sick feeling of not being the one at the reins. When did you last feel like that –- and what did you do about it? Oh. Thanks, Willis. About time you actually answered that damn question.
Helpless?
Hands and tongue tied up
Bound by common fears
Uncommon actions
What am I in for
What have you done
How did I let things get like this
Why are you stopping
Where are you going
Why do you keep on letting go
Hands behind back tied up
Bound by others’ chains
Unbelievable pain
Where is this going
Where will it end
How did I get in this position
When did it end
Why is it ending
Why is it ending
Hands before my eyes untying
Bound together by love
Unchained memories
Free to take over
Free to leave – or stay with you
How did I get you for a savior
What was it like before this
I don’t remember
I don’t remember
I don’t want to remember
Edward Hotspur
You amaze me. Sigh.
(and pantaloons made me laugh out loud to the point that I scared my dog)
YOU GOTTA PUT PANTALOONS ON YOUR DOG! ha ha
Thanks you. Or, thank you.
Hahahaha……I knew the response would be good, but THAT was genius. Still laughing…..
Hey I was sent here, glad I came, I much like this. Must see other stuff now.
Lol sent here. Well thank whoever sent you here, and welcome!
A veritable Hot ‘spur’ to prick the sides of my intent’ – I love the rhetorical questions in the poem and the resonant and enduring cry of ‘why’ running like a health desperate January jogger through the all too familiar streets of Self Doubt City. Helpless? Yes I remember; remembering the moment, that one single moment whose scar divides that half of my life from this half and just recalling, as your poem prompted me so to do, makes me want a drink, a strong one, even at this time of day. How did I let it get like that? Thanks for the prompt.
You’re welcome. Sorry I drove you to drink!
Better than having to walk!
Ha ha!
Reblogged this on galzinsherpa's Blog.
I never imagined you helpless before. I don’t like it, Ed. I mean, I liked the poem…
Do you like Helpless by CSNY?
Welll you got me on that one…
I see myself in these words. I feel this way often…great minds think alike
They certainly do.
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