We Stuck, Nor Breath Nor Motion

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Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
― Samuel Taylor Coleridge,

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner 

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Stuck in a comfortable place

No guess what happens next

With a clear view of jam ahead

So much, much to do instead

Still sucked at the same spot

To stay put or to honk horns

One after another, another

Another one day goes by

Moves with zero sound

Midst music all around

Direction signs all day long

To move dead straight ahead

It seems like moving, or 

Moving got stuck in a place.

Eternal Sunset, Empty Eyeballs

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”
― Fernando Pessoa

So empty these eyeballs I see

Dry of imaginations mysteries

Do they feel what I feel?

Plain truth lives deceits

Audience do they seek in me

To witness some silent speech

Far off can they heave?

Into vastness of eternities

Empty eyeballs

Eyeballs emptied