Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Writing Marathon Spring 2014 by Nicholas Sajjakulnukit


-Art Museum-
The interesting part of choosing to lurk
Is that I can observe, a whimsical perk
To speak not is hearing, without interfering
With others and how they may work

Once more I am here on a journey to write
To draw inspiration from some other sight
To wonder while perching upon a point, searching
For what the mundane may bring to light

The last time I did this we started downstairs
But it's varied somewhat, and honestly who cares?
From Bumpers to art, the difference in start
Is the opinion that someone else shares

And in its defense, I haven't been here
In this building of art of all forms
Consider it exploration of a sort
Outside of my established norms

That time of the fall and this time of the spring
I'd be interested to later compare
What difference a year and a half may bring
In the works that I see fit to share

9 journals have I, but I don't have the 1
That held my thoughts I had last time
Then again 5 have something else in store
Another purpose I've put to mind

So three in my pocket and one in my bag
My resources for holding my words
Then again organization demands separation
To avoid a word-mess too absurd

-Fireside Lounge-
If memory serves, this dull-dreary sky
Is the same exact shade that had met my eye
Though seasons shift two, I'd say that it's true
That little changes as time fly by

But of that said "little" is the view before me
A half-finished tower that I can now see
Born after that time and my last marathon rhyme
It grows here skeletal lay

The piano roars by the fireside
While the flames flicker freely with light
This place is where I had reflected upon
The shift from daytime to night

This tree before me hangs heavy with fruit
Withered and dangling forlorn
It seems strange that spring would allow such a thing
When one thinks it should be reborn
A temporal dissonance, decay within life
What I'd expect from the fall is seen now
But those piles of snow demonstrate what I know
That this scene has happened somehow

The ledge that I perched on is still over there
I recall us eavesdropping in the past
In that place of chill beside outdoor stair
It has changed little since I looked 'pon it last

So where to next in this journey of ours?
What will we choose to go see?
Of places in view, there are but a few
The Science Complex or the Library?
Or maybe the building of newly placed glass
Though the sights there are rare and few
Still for a wall filled with window's I'd expect
That some would have a hell of a view

-Library Floor 2-
Now that I think about it, the library floor
Is only to me the numbers 2 and 4
There is little reason for me to explore
1 and 3 for anything more

It's slightly at odds with where I have been
Back when I had lived back at Albion
I wandered those halls of physical text
And practically lived there within

Then again I have found that I write but don't read
My time is now spent with a muse I must feed
To relate or create, that choice for my state
Was answered by my whimsical need

-Library Floor 4-
I think the last time that I stood right here
Was when the Physics 2 final drew near
M, C and I tried to study that day
But I don't think we learned much that way

The skeleton tower looms within my sight
A collection of triangles standing upright
The cap on the ground and the crane by it's side
Shows that work is done for the night

There still a journal study that's announced all around
To look at what others have sought out and found
Or perhaps it's deception of a librarian's inception
To avoid a mess sure to astound

The study room dark and the study room light
Both gifts to the library
One with door open and one with door closed
And both empty as far as I see
Which one is preferred, the open or untouched?
Which one would you choose to exploit?
Either or neither is what I would think
I feel the atmosphere must disappoint

-Fireside Lounge, pt2-
So back to the fireside, we wait for the end
There were concerns about available seats
I took to the keys and tickled ivories
So you know, history repeats

This one and the last, two rambling tales
Of a trek around places I've been
It's an interesting exercise in seeing the world
And giving all things a new spin

No comments:

Post a Comment