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Listen to poem:
Along some bank of ambiguity.
Isolated while in wonder,
I lacked motivation.
Consequently, I preferred to be someplace different.
I perceived myself wandering near the banks,
Concerning one Tiber River in Rome.
"What is behind me,
Is not in front of me!"
Snickering, I proceeded onward.
Moreover, moments diminished,
And abruptly ceased because I stood,
Facing some faded timepiece,
In a distinctive configuration,
Regarding some profound conch shell.
Curiously, I mosey on towards that,
And eagerly picked it up,
It held some rocky surface,
Except its interior remained a smooth pinkish-white,
Furthermore, a deepening yellow that thrust internally,
Within the core of its curling contour.
Additionally, there existed some fracture on its pointy tip.
Anyhow, intrusiveness won-the-day.
Hold still my beating heart,
Notwithstanding whichever prevails before me covering this exceptional occasion.
I possess a conch shell,
And I likewise own two--not one--but two ears.
Oh! The apprehension continues, suffocating me.
Oh, Karen Carpenter and her song, 'A-N-T-I-C-I-P-A-T-I-O-N'!
Okay, now that I remain confident and composed.
Why, am I silly?
Just do it!
I wipe it casually,
Relieving it of some granules of sand.
I draw it close toward me.
Heydays about adolescence,
Races towards me.
It stimulates me while I heave it towards my ear.
Swiftly, ten years vanish off,
And a teen am I once more.
An unexplained phenomenon arouses my insights.
I sense a bizarre coolness about a specific zephyr,
Including some warming impression from that dried-up conch.
Meantime, Karen humming toward silence.
Every instant concerning now has crossed.
Contemplating peculiar conundrum of vibration,
Subsequently, it is detected while I grasp the conch closer and tighter.
Expectancies of a tickled lobe,
And calming sounds of nature
that will render the essence of me
--to complete abandon.
Confusingly, I drew that conch shell apart from my ear.
Staringly, as I acted startled, moreover, caught off guard!
I utterly discarded it and wandered onwards.
Pausing, I elected to effect something and mark into the sand
applying my fingers.
Subsequently, I irrevocably achieved scrawling out my frustration,
I slightly exhibited being loosened.
I later stood erect and evaporated toward an unknown horizon.
*At an isolated portion of a windswept beach, sits a lonely conch shell that seemingly, acknowledges a sense of euphoria exists. Its essence is experiencing, what resembles to purport a discernment of complete abandon to be. Presently onward, a traipsing foot trail continues its irrevocable staging of disappearance. Besides that and equally at the same degree as the foot trail is facing, an inscription that seemingly says, "OMG! BUSY SIGNAL--REALLY!!!"
Copyright © William Kekaula | Year Posted 2019