No contrast in the day
no breeze to blow the clouds away.
I’m reduced to watching the abstractions on this screen
just about the most idle pursuit I have ever seen.
In this atmosphere
nothing gets done I fear.
The jobs I should be doing
I neglect to keep the eye candy flowing.
There was a time when I couldn’t wait
to hit the street and photograph
write poems, seek friends and laugh.
The street has no appeal today
and no sirens scream the wounded away.
The buses pass with inhabitants dazedly gazing
as if they couldn’t believe what they are seeing.
It’s not the reality of their TV screen or latest film
it’s their dull and wretched lives
on fast forward and dumb.
My jazz station nags me for a donation.
So I avoid the window except as light
and I fondle my camera and hope this will inspire
a much remembered line or quotation.
There are dishes to be washed
and projects to complete
trash to be emptied
I have not obeyed the Lord of small tasks.
The room is chill and the comfort of my bed
the refuge of the depressed but breathing dead
But I feebly resist with this poem so I can say
I’ve accomplished something
this dull depressing
©Copyright October 25, 2005 by John-Ward Leighton