I actually wrote this poem because of a case of indigestion, yes, art imitating life. I have also written a poem after a concussion mixed with a hangover (a story for another post), but sometimes when you don't feel so well, you come up with something... um... something, I was going to say poignant, but I am not sure this qualifies. The poem did inspire a short story (or long short story, or short novella) of the same name that I may post sometime (but it is rather long). At any rate, I still like this quirky poem, maybe someone else will too :)
'Alternate Lives'
The moment fades...
And choices are made.
A door opens and another closes
Maybe a window slams shut.
A spill causes a spark that sets
a fire...
Infinite times infinite times.
But once... it never happened.
This time, it did not occur
Mayhap it happened but merely
slightly changed
Repeated times infinite times.
A decision lingers...
And what must cannot be.
A tumble down some stairs
Or a slip across a floor.
Alters a meeting of chance
Or another's destiny
Infinite or even divided this time.
But once.. it did happen
Frankly, it did occur.
And really it could have happened
Although slightly changed
Infinite and divided several times.
Call it whimsy
Call it hope
Or even fantasy
Still, what is
was not and, in the end,
may be.
A thought is altered...
And nothing is said that should.
A plane lands on time
Another canceled or delayed
A car decides to stall
On the other hand, works just fine.
Once, twice, or any number of times.
These things could occur
And certainly should...
were supposed to happen
Yet, it multiples instead of divides
Infinite times infinite times.
Is it lunacy?
Is it fallacy?
Or just indigestion?
Maybe, one day at the edge of time
it was
Perhaps even celestial inebriation.
A life is changed...
Except it is not.
A kiss that leads to more
Hugs that mean just friends
Hope replaces misery
Or life remains the same
Repeating infinitely upon a
Inverted fractal a couple of times.
Some know truth that seems a dream
Others wonder about old cliches.
Joy comes with the wisdom
Of seeing lives that could
or could not be.
It happens in an instant infinite
upon infinite times.
Call it what you will
Call it complete lunacy
A ridiculous extant of an epiphany
fueled by hopeful delusion
Infinite times infinite times.
Or it could be indigestion...
Darn anchovies.
C.
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2 comments:
Great and surprising poem. Although it got me thinking wouldn't it be really interesting to see where some of the great poets pulled from for their inspiration? The choices may surprise us...:)
Thanks for dropping by and glad you enjoyed the poem. I have thought about what other poets did for inspiration, and I am sure their choiced would be interesting. I have to admit, for myself, the choices can be surprising many a time. That is what is beautiful about inspiration.
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