Opportunity

I can't write, or read, or draw,
or study, or think
because my mind is busy
I'm stuck in a jumbled mess of opportunity
I can't see far through the mass of web
so thick it absorbs my every breath
I can feel my breath stopping
inches in front of my face
clogging up the web
becoming part of the problem.
I can't see very far through it at all
nor can I see an individual thread...
only if I look very closely
intently
one at a time.
But there's always another
which is slightly closer to the tip of my nose
more urgent than the other.
And at the very point where I begin,
where my eyes are no more use to me
and I must feel my way ahead
through every single thread
At the very point where I begin,
What is there?
and How am I to know what to do about it
when I can't even see it

Reviews

[Tiffany]

Its good in many ways, and complicated past the topic. I really do like it or I would never say such a thing. If you work for a bit of clarity in something concrete to tie those intense images with a specific significant idea I think the poem would be more accessable. Thanks for sharing. t.