A Different Type of Jubilee

Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

Moments that meant something

Even when I thought they didn’t — then.

A practice in mindfulness never endeavored,

Only memories as evidenced by my trusty pen.

And I know limerence flitted somewhere in my mind

So painful but oh look, how I’ll respond in kind!

***

I lunged through early morning shadow woods

High on life, or as the hicks say, “tripping on acid.”

And that’s with nary a wink or shuteye or sleep

My revolutionary ideas — none too placid.

A scheme! A scheme! On how to confess a lover

‘Tis my breadth of life, ’tis my ultimate fodder.

***

And when I bantered with my friend into the night

The cards and psychedelic music meant — game on!

And sometimes in my absurdist state

I’d stare at her ceiling and catch whereupon,

A whiff of the air that for once isn’t home

But in someone else’s where my soul will roam.

***

So, right…that staring contest with the ceiling?

I did that too, in days lovelorn’d.

Till I remembered there existed a world outside me

While I lie and lay, sat and scorned.

All these unprecedented jubilees — what is the scope of their power?

But they’re all I have, and they I revisit in my darkest hour.

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