Scream Gravity December 30, 2o15

You know, I looked at how many poems I had written or did major rewrites on this year and it came out to be 98 poems. So, I found one more from the past that I haven't yet posted on this blog, did a little rewriting and that means that I've got another day or two to write a NEW poem and that will give me a total of 100 for the year.

Scream Gravity

I'm falling . . .

                   down . . .

                                or is it up?

Direction matters little.

People . . .

                 things . . .

                                time . . .

                                            passing by . . .

a breathless pace.

I grab at shadows . . .

                                  they . . .

can’t slow me down.

Before me . . .

                      solid ground . . .

                                              will it bend me, break me

when I hit?

Tiny bits

             of flesh . . .

                                f blood . . .

                                                 cartilage . . .

scattered on the cold concrete below . . .

                                                                or is it up?

The past . . .

                   evaporates . . .

                                        replaced . . .

by a fine mist of sweat,

of  worry for the future of my skin

                                                    and bones . . .

                                                                          and yet . . .

I don’t regret a single moment of life.

I shouldn't think so hard (they say)
on what might be.
Instead, enjoy the breeze (they say)
climbing steadily up your legs.

My legs . . . my arms . . .

my whole body screams gravity.
Woodie 12-29-15