Skip to main content

The Goal of a Goal



I'm wandering astray,
Just grass, mud and moss beneath.
I'm drifting away,
The ground is cracking below my feet.

I'm dribbling and kicking and dancing,
Going on and on as far as I can go.
But soon I'm alone, the ball's missing,
I've no goal in which to kick, no basket in which to throw.

I've been messing with paints for hours on end,
Mixing and matching and trying my luck.
The blobs on the paper mean neither sense nor nonsense,
I can't start 'cause it's the end at which I'm stuck.

Yes, it's the goal, that makes in-achievable achievable,
Before you start you need to consider the end.
No doubt you reach the clapper before the finish line,
But that strip of red ribbon is to which everyone's eyes attend.

I've landed in a supermarket from thin air,
Both my hands and my brain lie idle without the contents of the conventional shopping list.
I justify my condition by saying 'Was just passing by' ,
But the outcome is the resentful realization that's there's a bulk of extra and many a necessity missed.

Imagine that you're on board a flight that states no destination,
What if it took you to Congo and you'd been equipped for Greenland!
What if you'd hoarded your head with never-ending Danish vocabulary,
And ended up in front of a Pygmy -guide instructing in Swahilli!

Life is a path that can be given many synonyms and described by a tonne of adjectives,
But let me warn you not to dare to tread on it before you know it is XYZ you want to get to.
The right bag of feelings, the right notion of priorities, the knowledge to go about tasks on this road will soon attack you,
If to XYZ you assign a value which you promise never to renew.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What the New Year Means to Me

 What does the new year mean to me? I don't know.  I think it just means that I can give myself another chance to try, fail, succeed.   I think it means that I can spend time with family, differently this time. I think it means that I can connect with people and with myself, in new ways.  I also think that it gives me a chance to see things with a different lens. The kaleidoscope becomes a periscope. I don't know what else. Every year, I put on a new pair of goggles. Every year, I grow, whether I try, or not. Some things may work as I had expected them to, some may not. But who knows?  I will allow myself to be Novak Djokovic in my arena, who hears his name when the crowd cheers for Nadal or Federer. I will allow myself to be Rafael Nadal, who always has a plan, no matter how bleak or bright things may seem, and sticks to it. I will allow myself to be Roger Federer, who glides in, serves, plays and walks out, all in grace and style. I will allow myself to b...
1 comment
Read more

Fact and Fantasy

How much is fact, and how much is fantasy? Winter mornings are dewdrops. They settle like the treble in a song, only to fade away like echoes.  I can hold them on my fingertips, but the next instant they are gone. Elusive. Just like peace. Just like people you don't really know. Come to think of it, I realize that everything in this world is transient. The barking of the dogs in the neighborhood. The incessant crying of a baby. The footsteps of the milkman. The steady, tremulous tone of someone making a point over the phone. The chatter of neighbors. Yet, only a few moments have passed before I can remind myself that transience is, after all, a tricky business. Everything appears temporary because it is warped by time and spaced into a fragment of its entirety. What appears to be a puzzle, is actually just one piece.  I am wearing the most concrete example of this irony of interconnectedness. Of permanence. Of durability. It wraps your hands and skin in the warmth of several i...
Post a Comment
Read more

(How I Wish) People Were Like Poems

Today, I wish people were more like poems.  A sad truth is dawning on me.  I can't just be. Most things just are. No proof required. No justification. Here I feel like an instance Of a class. Some kind of template  With some methods Instantiated. Many of my methods are public. Others comment on them. If I encapsulate, They pry. If I am abstract, They talk. What's going on? I'm not going to plead any more. I'll just shut all the doors. Make all the methods and variables private. Too many people tampering with the balance of it all. Our lives are not portraits or leaflets to hand out. Media often makes us feel so, but existence is way older, Authentic and organic- than the glitzy hood of social media. Human beings, like plants, need space, nourishment and nurturing To thrive. Are plants dependent on these things? Can they not stand on their own roots? They can, and they do. But you cannot neglect  The environmental variables that make them happen. So don't comment on ...
Post a Comment
Read more