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.

Always Too Eager for the Future

The new man is born too old to tolerate the new world. The present conditions of life have not yet erased the traces of the past. We run too fast, but we still do not move enough. He looks but he does not contemplate, he sees but he does not think. He runs away from time, which is made of thought, and yet all he can feel is his own time, the present. ― Eugenio Montale

Possibilities of many minds

They peep forward in time

Slowly time ticks away

Present becomes Past

Future is Present today

Of all the habits I picked

You were worst and best

I do not present explaining

Why we did what we did

Of all things that I have sad

Every walk was a test

I can still taste presence

Of your perfect defenses

Some things ever escape

Perfectly modeled cages

What is it that I seek?

In these cracks in time

All’s lost and sand

Here I too stand

Eagerly