Everest

The deadline looms and I can't decide if I lack motivation or am simply just predisposed to laziness.


Each and every time the same roller coaster of emotions, thoughts and ideas. Initial indifference morphs into enthusiasm that is in turn dulled by realisation that what I thought was Primrose Hill is actually Everest.


And so the slow ascent begins. Papers and books clutter desk and words crash and meld indiscriminately in my mind. Confusion sets in, dizzying in the height of knowledge, not knowing up from down, right from left, cause from effect. But slowly the mounds of theories and piles of propositions condense and fall away like the mountain snow to water, trickling away and allowing me to pass, eventually.

After the fact

eliot saw it
those who lived after the fact
who died in their minds
and breathed in their memories

for those who saw colour in the past
and vividness in the future,
the monochrome of the present
only brought a sense of loss

to be in the now
to taste the infinitely tiny
particles of air at the moment
they touched aveoli

to have skin shock electric
with the gentle touch
of wind in flight
and after no memory

eliot saw it
though they could only
reminisce and ponder
on it, after the fact