Intro:
Often times, I find myself floundering in a sea of misadventures that feel misguided and uninformed. As a full time student, an employee, a friend, a writer, a girlfriend, and a participant of many other endeavors I find myself suffocated with responsibility a lot more often than my pride bloated soul would like to admit. Sitting in my car entrapped by rush hour, I throw my head back yearning to be doing something productive, I am constantly begging for time to slow down or for my work to speed up. This week’s message is about time and productivity. It is incredibly easy to become overwhelmed by your lurking inner demons constantly convincing you that there is no way you will finish all that you have in front of you, in time. I know that it may feel utterly impossible, and that is valid, and that is okay. If it’s impossible, if you miss something, if you have to put off your essay a few days, the world will still spin, the sun will still rise, you will still give and receive love. Sometimes a little perspective is all you need to put a spool of anxiety on a shelf and let it set for a while.
I wanted to share a piece of back story as a preface to this poem. A man from my past often struggled with dealing with the reality of time. I remember him, flustered constantly, never sitting still without the inner workings of his mind buzzing with anticipation. I wrote this poem staring at the one individual in my life presently that stops time, wishing that the individual I once knew would find peace and gentle existence in an individual as I had in that very moment. I wrote this poem looking back, hoping to connect time and the idea of grounding oneself in their priorities of self-care.
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*Reader Note, read in rhythm placing emphasis on the isolated phrases*
Curry Tuesdays
Sitting quietly
Under sick yellow lighting
Wrestling chop sticks with numbed fingers
Poor Thai catered conversation
Time.
You were terrified of its bounds on you
Wasting, spending, ticking
More.
Time with you
Felt taxed,
Heavy, thick like coconut milk laced with citrus
We
Could never find
A way to stop
Time.
Writing Location Recommendation:
I live on the edge of Edmonds, home to cozy coffee shops nestled right on the shore of the sound. A lovely friend of mine led me to this hidden corner café that I now take refuge in quite often. The Red Twig is a warm, dimly lit, hipster café that serves the cutest latte art my tender heart has ever seen. The quiet atmosphere and quaint downtown location makes it the perfect spot for poetry.
If You Liked This Poem Try….
Mark Anthony Poet on Instagram! He specializes in simplicity and brevity.
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Until Next Week!