Writing and running – part two (I hate self-discipline)

Resorting to poetry, I can barely breath,

having captured an hour, to move less gently.

For this one I warmed down, but feel shaky legged,

insecure heartbeat, ice-cream pain, intense.

A talk about dogs, some nearly hit cars,

colder, but brighter, and still not too hard.

Building it slowly, but too fast for me,

phone slapping comfort, keeping a beat.

A rhythm, de-synced to ventricles furred,

ripping the filth that from torpor it learnt.

Inaction made steady, can easily seduce,

that part of me wanting, to without effort produce,

all that I hope for, with no courage put in.

A teacher once told me, I lacked self-discipline,

I still hate him.

 

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2 responses to “Writing and running – part two (I hate self-discipline)”

  1. Verity Keen says :

    A great ‘rhythmic’ piece… full of little cul de sacs to explore, looking for a way out you hit and kiss yourself simulaneously – V

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