Treadmill

Beads of sweat breaking
Drops forming waiting -- to fall
Ev'ry step a feat
Ev'ry second a beat -- eats away
Running, running in place
Trying, trying to keep pace
Failing, failing to gain ground
Dying, dying with ev'ry bound

Purose I have, but almost forgot
This run this pace is all I've got
I step, I slip, I -----


Keats
12-20-10

Adamantine

Here I am in the dark, unseen
I, myself am dark, of rotten composition,
Cannot tell which way is up
Unknown is my position

Deep, dark, deposited, down
Burried beneath bedrock bunkers
Pressed—pressures piling
Waiting, wondering, when will wasting wane?

Futher pressing, crushing constricting
Finding no line to traverse
But into my universe
No way out but in
Turning squeezing, turning changing
From coal to crystalline
Brittle to adamantine

Born of tribulation
Son of adversity
Conceived while rotten
(Brittle black)
Born non-living, hard
Sparkling
Adamantine

Remnants of life
Further killed
Crushed to indestructibility
Adamantine

Inflexible, unbending
Obdurate, adamant
Undaunting
Coldness and lifeless
Haunting

Born from death
Thing of no breath
Thing of beauty (eerie)
Personification of dead immortality

False immortality
Preserved in death
Suspended animation
Life and death in contention

But nothing endures forever
The horizon can be reached
Wine ceases improving
Quality declines
Remains rot
Fire burns away
Metal tarnishes or gathers rust
Adamantine cleaves and turns to dust

(Kedge) Keats
2 Jan 1999