Circles Again

Stephen O'Connor
Aug 22, 2017 · 3 min read

I used to look ahead, focused.
I was stealth like in my movement, darting swiftly around the obstacles in my way. I would cut through and weave.
Like a field mouse navigating a deadly terrain.

And power came to this one heart beating
Independence and strength.
The distance I have journeyed alone
Could not be quantified by some metric of length.

Relying solely on my instinct.
My momentum would build and build.
My foresight would drive me forward.
I would scan, predict and rise within my guild.

But my time of moving forward,
It came to a sudden halt.
My view it changed and the goal posts are gone.
Circles and circles of cupids fault.

I break the perimeter momentarily but go back in.
I go back willingly and move in circles again.
I try and remind myself. I remember and try again.
Still circles, circles again and again.

I’m losing the race. But I’m excited about this.
I’m not sure why I was racing to begin with.
My heart too is racing. My hair is standing.
My imagination running wild.
In circles again with the happiness of a child.

I shiver with nervous excitement.
I know this feeling, he is an old friend to me.
I slack off my duties and fall off this world.
He has me in circles. And I’m happy.

This gauntlet is not new to me, I have run it before.
But I was deserted along the way.
My nemesis waited for me, bearing its teeth.
I cheated my death that day.

For I turned on my heels and found a new path.
I grew alone with strength and conviction.
But circles now. Inside and out.
I’m whirling again in some wonderful fiction.

The race can wait but the cat will remain.
It stirs, it’s hunting me. I must focus and maintain.
I cannot become complacent and let my heart run cold.
I’ll keep my wits but fight for it. All that glitters is not gold.

The run will be more difficult, yes and more treacherous than before.
Predators are more vicious, they come knocking upon our door.
Times passage has hardened hearts.
And alas most have given up before they start.

The fear of my loosing this race is trumped by the fear of loosing him.
To Cupid, Aphrodite and the gods of love, it’s the making of a mortal sin.
Loosing again and having to change my course.
But I’ll not look upon the mouth of the gift horse.

I have chosen to run with him,
For as long as it takes.
Dodging our enemies and the promising snakes.
And I cant say what will happen. If we will survive.
But Christ I’ll give it a go.
For to love and hurt is to be alive!

And the cat will go hungry.
While I hold my lovers hand
The cat will not feast!
As we journey through the land.

Copyright © 2017 Stephen O’Connor
All Rights Reserved

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a diverse, engaging and authentic poetry magazine. For most of that time a daily publication, it was always diverse and original, and free-to-read by all.

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Stephen O'Connor

Written by

Aspiring poet and writer.

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a diverse, engaging and authentic poetry magazine. For most of that time a daily publication, it was always diverse and original, and free-to-read by all.

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