June 8, 2011

Picturesque Speech

A
day
hardly
goes by
without me
thinking how
much life tends
to go around in circles and how much
I'd rather be sailing on my boat

on the rolling sea      on the rolling sea     on the rolling sea     on the rolling sea     on the rolling sea
                 on the rolling sea          on the rolling sea        on the rolling sea        on the rolling sea  

Instead, here I am, stuck

in my cube in my cube in my cube in my cube
in my cube in my cube in my cube in my cube
in my                                                          .
in my                                                          .
in my                                                          .
in my                                              my cube
in my                                              my cube
in my                      _  _                  my cube
in my                      O O                  my cube
in my                        >                    my cube
in my                        o                     my cube
in my                                              my cube
in my                                              my cube
in my cube in my cube in my cube in my cube
in my cube in my cube in my cube in my cube



day after day after day after day after day after day after day after day,

writing these tediou.....zzzzzzz, writing these tediou.....zzzzzzz, writing these tediou.....zzzzzzz,
um, maybe some coffee will help.....writing these tedious


   
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports
reports        reports        reports        reports        reports        reports


that no one will ever read.  



philosophers
and wise men have tried to
tell us over the years, of course, that
life moves in cycles and in circles, that we
do not travel along a simple, straight path, reaching
our destinations and achieving our goals in a direct way.
We must suffer interruptions and diversions along the way.
That way is bumpy and frought with peril. There are dangers
and demons and dragons to dispatch before we may triumph.
As I am learning, into every life some spreadsheets must fall.
Long distance mariners and pilots know that the shortest way
around the globe is an arc, and not the straight path that the
unsuspecting would suspect. So, I am learning to put up with
the detours, to negotiate the potholes and the bumps in
the road. This time spent in purgatory will serve its
purpose, will make the sweet days that must
surely lie ahead that much sweeter, and
may, perhaps, yet turn me into that
most tedious thing of all, a
philosopher.

                

16 comments:

  1. That's the most picturesque speech I've ever not heard you make. How do you do it?

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  2. Now how would you reproduce three- and four-dimensional picturesque speech on the blog?

    Or maybe we can start with some quotes in the form of MC Escher drawings. Or maybe just a plain flemish coil. (You know which one.)

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  3. I'm usually not capable of three-dimensional speech, Pat, until I've had too much wine, and that speech isn't worth reproducing.

    Tillerman, a better question might be not how I do this, but why I do this.

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  4. Oh beloved philosopher and scribe. Life can be a hard path at times. Endless meetings, reports and spreadsheets are the bane of all sane people. Endure my friend, endure.

    I hope one day soon, you will be able to escape the hell hole that is Sacramento and dangle your toes in the warm briny sea ....with a cocktail in your hand.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thanks for the kind condolences, Joe.

    Your briny thoughts are always welcome.

    ReplyDelete
  6. What Joe said. Or hell, maybe even dangle your toes in a cocktail. Now wouldn't that be refreshing?

    ReplyDelete
  7. Man, you must have a lot of time at work between reports to be able to do this.

    Well done

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  8. George Herbert was the master of 'shaped poems':
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:GeorgeHerbertEasterWingsPatternPoem1633.jpg

    ReplyDelete
  9. Baydog, that reminds me of the Michael Franks classic, Mojito Toes.


    Smilicus, not much time at work, but insomnia is the blogger's friend. Sleep is so 20th century.

    Thanks, though.


    Chris, thanks for that. I aspire to be the master of shaped whinging.

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  10. Wot we need: dirigible-mounted floodlights hovering over the Berkeley Circle for the benefit of insomniac sailors.

    Set them up in conjunction with a marathon charity fundraising regatta where a race committee is on station for a week, 24 hours per day, and sailors can come and go and do as many short races as they wish. Special prizes would be awarded to the team that completes the most races, as well as for the more usual first-place finishes and corrected time scores. Teams would be solicited to sail in the graveyard shifts so as to ensure continual race action.

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  11. Pat, that sounds a lot like the Three Bridge Fiasco.

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  12. A trim poem. A well shaped poem. A veritable bonsai of a poem.

    There is a bright side of cubes....

    "There's a world where I can go, and tell my secrets too..."

    In My Room

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  13. ><([[(•> <•)]])>< °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° ><([[(•> <•)]])>< °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° ><([[(•> <•)]])><

    xo!

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  14. Very ef - fish - iently stated, Bonnie!

    ReplyDelete