This Endless Escalator
Poem
Moses Constable
The Escalator is moving up and up, further and further.
I turn to my left and ask the man in black where we're going.
He looks at me with his dark impervious eyes, Nowhere.
A wave rises and cultivates into something magnificent;
a power of nature, but in the end it crashes down, it falls, and becomes slow drifting water once again.
When looking through a telescope; what looks so far, seems so close.
In the dark only things in motion can be seen.
When a camera lens is out of focus, things seem much clearer.
What has happened before will happen again.
My body and my heart are getting restless.
I'm stuck on this Escalator.
Second chances don't come too often.
Excuse me, when does this end? I asked.
Just open your eyes and think about where you are and how you got there.
Once all is accepted and resolved in your mind, you'll reach the top, the man in black said.
A swamp in the middle of a forest,
A bee in a flower,
A farm in the city,
An angel in Hell,
Snow in the summer,
The tendency to forget.
A motionless mind on it's way to the emergency room.
I focused on my thoughts, my past, my future, and most importantly my present.
I stood there waiting for something, almost anything, but nothing.
The laziness of the human race contradicts the point of living.
Happiness doesn't walk up to your door,
Love doesn't knock,
Pain doesn't let itself in,
Regret never seems to leave.
The man in black as he stands still, whispers, Tell me about the story of the innocent lovers.
Well, I don't know the whole story myself, but I believe you're looking at the ending, I said.
This endless escalator.
This triumph of loss,
Of cyclic breaks,
Of fallen sand,
Of meaningless and despondent love,
Of insanity.
This Endless Escalator© COPYRIGHT 2005 Moses Constable.
Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author.
04/15/05
