The white pages
Scream a song
We are balanced in the in between place
A thousand powder passes our lips
The gate crashes
All about us is falling down
We take a shot
And another
Numbers barely make a difference now
Count them in
Count them out
We wash in cool water
Let the waves lap our feet
Wait a while
The air is tranquil
Balanced.
The in between place is neither here nor there. There used to be a lot of pubs in England called the Halfway House; is that where you are then Jae?
ReplyDeleteSometimes in between space is the safest space.
ReplyDeleteNumbers barely make a difference now
ReplyDeleteCount them in
Count them out... you do write so wonderfully!
Whew! To stay balanced while a song screams is amazing. And with all of the activity of pills, powders and shots, the tranquility of the air and the narrator is beyond reason. A powerful poem.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful write, Jae!!...xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteThe in between place sounds a bit precarious, what with the falling and crashing all around. But it is so worth finding. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteI like 'The white pages / Scream a song', a place of safety in those pages, perhaps the in-between place in which they are balanced. We all need refuge from the crashing and falling down, where 'The air is tranquil'.
ReplyDeleteThe space between tranquility and turmoil is nobody's
ReplyDeleteWhew! Sometimes it seems to take a lot of turbulence in our lives to achieve balance.
ReplyDeleteI like the in between places... that’s where real life happens. Love it!
ReplyDelete