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Published:December 18th, 2006 19:32 EST
Bright Poem

Bright Poem

By Inactive Writer

We`ve been sitting in this position for so long

or so it seems that if we were to move it would only

be to feel the weakness in our knees well I

waited for a while to see if you would like to try

to move our legs beneath us and stand up in

some point in time but what happens from this

nothing is that you feel all tingly and numb and you

can`t fathom that there really are legs

beneath you as you run I haven`t moved in

quite some time and what I`m begging you to do

don`t give me the stilts that I already have to only

give me your upper half, lend me a hand

it`s been too long in this staleness and the moving

is quite dead I haven`t felt this empty since

the day the world had said that there is

nothing in this meaning and so there is not a place

to go but stay right here and conquer me and we`ll

move like never before but the thing with sitting

cross legged is that you can`t feel anything

and all the numbness is just a hole for all

the pain to sting so when the motion

crosses over and breaks into our hearts and we start to

pick up our heads we can`t hear a thing singing because

of the ringing that has commenced it`s

in our joints and bones and burying in our chests

beating in our brains that though the love may last

can you feel beyond this tingling that pain is chasing

at your legs and keeping us from moving in this

sorry sorry state I had a wondering face that once called

up all the shame but still I remained frozen

on that cold and rock-like place so I`m not sure if its the pain

or the numbness that it brings that makes me feel

I cannot feel nor will ever feel the same so I guess what

is impressing in the notes played to my breast I`m

moving in this stillness like we have been for ages long

and have made a quiet trail for you to follow on where it

goes I cannot promise or that it even has an end but my

purpose is to only bring our legs back again what happens

if the day you reach down with your hand I find my knees

are ghosts and long ago left me but I had not known would you

reach through the parting stillness to let me know you feel

knowing that we are shells in world that is not real would

you have sat with me for mornings to wane until a night

and wait for legs forever if it only meant a life if we stood up again

but never danced a song is that something worth the stinging when

you first stand and say this is the

moment worth moving I hope it never goes away,

there is a life that has awakened and I will

be walking with this pain the farther down

that trail I went I realized it`s not the same I don`t know

about you but if you are numb like me then standing

up or shifting positions can be as shocking as the ice we breathe or if we

claimed it stung too much what with everything we moved is the

struggle in the walking or what we could do I felt a running river once

but it escaped beneath my hands washing over rocks to some unknown

distant land do I wish that water had ensued me perhaps to wash up

all I had it`s a pleasure it`s a measure of how much we want to stand if

we were to move from all this squatting and the rotting realizing

that it could mean a stinging heart would we say that it`s a

feeling would you say that it`s a start

Note: The writer who originally contributed this poem is no longer affiliated with theSOP.