Poetry / Prometheus

Prometheus

I gave you the ability to burn bridges
completely aware
of the consequences,

but,
under the calculated assumption
that remaining still was effortless.

I mean,
after all,
it was supposed to be
a fundamental law of physics:
all things remain still
unless otherwise beckoned.

I had imagined the weight of time
to be as light as the weight
of your head leaning against my shoulder,

but instead
it turned out heavier
than Sisyphus’ burden.

I just wanted to stop the bleeding.
Pushing time forward
meant the struggle of starting over.
Healing was for the sole purpose
of feeling once again
the sensation of getting your heart torn out.

Time is spilling over
from its hands
like water in a water wheel,
rushing downstream
like a train to its next stop.

What good is it
for the soul to resist,
to peg your feet against the tracks
and hold out your hands?

To step back
behind the yellow line,
and let go,
your face in the window
blurring into the grand scheme of things.

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Reviews

February 23, 2006

Deleted User

Review of Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

The most visual part of this piece is “It’s that time of year:the budding…...winds” I absolutely loved it. I also loved the last stanza. You definitely have a great talent with words. In the first stanza, Im not too sure I like the word “remotely.” I feel it interrupts the flow a bit. I want to know what he regretted. There’s not much else that I would change about this. Great Job.