502. Untitled - July 06, 2002
Absinthe makes the mind forget
all the things
that make life worth living.
Finding wisdom
at the bottom of a glass,
finding oblivion
in every sip swallowed.
Clarity sought
in every drop;
but reality fades
replaced by emptiness found.
Live Life Large
Sometimes we drink to forget,
sometimes we drink
in grand company
and make memories.
Is likker quicker?
Does it go right to our head?
One thing's for sure -
it won't make us
any smarter.
The good times or the bad times
come no matter what;
whether the glass
is half empty or half full
depends on our point
of view.
Life is for living;
it is best lived
with a clear head
and a full heart.
© Ellie Maziekien
070602
503. Untitled - July 06, 2002
The solid embrace
of clear cut crystal
filled with liquid gold
becomes solace
against all that is
beyond the now
and the here.
Slow sips,
quick gulps,
all serve to make things
come away with greater speed
than before.
Every moment,
becomes a march towards
both oblivion
and forgetfulness.
Verbal brilliance
becomes a thing of past
as words become slurred
and garbled
in the confusion that reigns.
The half glass
is but a sign
beckoning
to be filled again.
Heads clear,
hearts full,
are but what is left
of lives lived.
Choices
Eager, we come again to the font.
once there,
our steps become hesitant;
unsure.
we have run the race -
only to reach
this place of continuing,
of choosing.
the first heat was filled
with moments of simple joy
and painful disillusionment,
but we have prevailed.
Whichever path we take,
the future
is a journey
never before undertaken.
Only the bold survive.
© Ellie Maziekien
070702
504. Untitled - July 07, 2002
It's an endless marathon
being run,
twenty-six miles
after twenty-six miles.
The terrain is rough,
and never of our choosing,
no byways and highways
to distract from the end.
The long distance runner
becomes but a speck
in the horizon
that never fades.
Every footstep
becomes a moment
away from the start,
towards the unknown;
every heartbeat
becomes a marker
against the winding time.
Running like hell,
but going no where,
that is the marathon
in circles.
Choose Wisely
The race continues.
The course we have taken
goes farther on
and we are given
options.
Always, we have
the opportunity
to go one way or another.
The alternative is not to try.
The realm of the unfamiliar
lies before us;
a gift to be opened,
a riddle
to be solved.
© Ellie Maziekien
070702
505. Untitled - July 07, 2002
The choice of no choosing;
where every race run
becomes one without a start
nor an end.
Options masquerade
as reality;
and illusion
becomes the truth.
The white flag flails
even as spirits fail;
for why run,
when there is no solution
in sight.
Run Like Hell
The refusal to choose
is a choice of its own.
Ambivalence is not the answer.
We run because we must.
The race goes on if we run
or if we stand in one place.
Running in place
will just tire us out.
If your soul is already tired
you need to brace yourself,
gird your loins,
and rejoin the race,
even if you feel like stopping.
The burden
of holding
the white flag aloft
will bear you down.
On your mark.
Run.
RUN!!
© Ellie Maziekien
070802
506. Untitled - July 08, 2002
The race is never won,
for life is never done.
The soul is weary,
as the future is bleary.
There is no choice left to make
but to run ahead, and claim our stake,
until everything becomes a blur.
Another case of perpetual motion
without any progress;
movement for the sake thereof.
Momentum
Perpetual motion is a myth.
Each one of us needs rest.
Constant running will kill the best of us
the weakest have no chance at all
in the race.
Forward movement is always progress.
At times the growth is so slight, so small,
it is unseen.
Be assured,
it is there.
Sometimes it hurts to go on,
but
there is no growth without pain.
We move ahead,
soul weary or not.
If we stand, unmoving,
frozen in time,
we admit defeat.
© Ellie Maziekien
070802
507. Untitled - July 08, 2002
The pendulum begins
to swing backwards,
into the past,
away from the future.
Forwards,
sideways,
backwards again,
minute movements
that leave us standing still.
There is no progress to be marked;
there is no need to reach for the impossible;
for the search is laid to rest.
Conceding the race
before it's run;
retreating from life
before it's done.
The Only Game in Town
The pendulum eventually swings back.
The past is the past
the present is over in an instant.
The race is the only game in town.
Progress is marked in tiny fragments of time
and moments so short,
we usually miss them altogether.
If you retreat,
would you be a recluse
and not participate
in the richness of life?
Even the hermit
sitting alone
on his mountaintop
searches.
The meaning of life has eluded him
and so he sits
and misses out
on the glories
that occur daily.
Just one smile
from one who loves us
equals the brilliance
of the sun.
Companions bolster our spirit.
That shortens the journey.
© Ellie Maziekien
070802
508. Untitled - July 08, 2002
Why live a life of clichés
when there are roads less travelled?
Why live for tomorrow
when today is an age of torment?
Why search for glories from afar,
when butterflies are miracles in flight?
Ultimately,
the road chosen
may not have risen to meet us
at all.
Untitled
There are times
when the road rises to
smack us in the face
just to make sure we're awake.
Tomorrow might be better;
we won't know until we get there.
A flight of butterflies,
wings translucent
in the sunlight,
is one of the prizes
awarded to us
each time
we finish another heat.
© Ellie Maziekien
070802
509. Untitled - July 08, 2002
It's a constant search in life,
for the beauty that claims to lie within;
for so many have learnt
to do without.
It's a constant struggle to balance
the good with the bad,
the here and the now
with the past and the future.
It's a moment in time stolen
when I watch
the butterflies dance.
Untitled
Flowers sway in the soft breeze
beckoning their ardent suitors,
The bees come, constant and dependable,
arrayed in their trusty striped outfits.
Other insects are drab; dowdy.
They do their job, unseen.
The butterfly's beauty
equals the flower's.
Her wings spread to catch the light,
she flits from bloom to bloom
ensuring that life goes on.
The joy we take from watching her
in all her delicate splendor
is a gift for our souls as well as our eyes.
© Ellie Maziekien
070802
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