Limbo State

Photo from Woodstockings.

Photo from Woodstockings.

not committed to life

though not yet committed to death

under every philosophy in which I entertain belief

lies a fear of what comes next


not committed to chaos

and not committed to calm

renders a frenzied half state

probing life for what will go wrong

not committed to crazy 

and not committed to commonplace

crush conventions with an impish grin

and apologize, feel that I must save face

not committed to love

and not committed to lust

longing to be held

while devoid of basic trust

not committed to hedonism

and not committed to health

knock whiskey back with a ginger shot

stretch the limits of the self

not committed to the city

so by the sea is where I reside,

constantly concocting daydreams

of what I’m missing on the other side

claiming commitment to my path

for I have always walked alone

while doubt and contradiction thrive

in thorny thicket overgrown

it seems to choose 

would be to lose

my anchoring in the other

a veil of protection I can slip into 

thereby remaining safely undercover

but lately it appears I can’t hold back

the truth I’ve tried to smother

that devotedly, I’m committed,

I’ve just labeled this fact a blunder

to life with deep respect for death

to chaos lived through a state of calm

to the truly unconventional, and the challenge of burning love

to a balance of indulgence and health

to vagrancy, for the world is my home

to my path, in exodus

with the others who walk alone

yes, to choose it is to lose

my station in the limbo

so I step with steady feet

I wasn’t given life to tip-toe