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Comfort Observed

A List Alleging My Benefit

By Samuel TjornhomPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
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Comfort comes to me, I’m sure

But to make myself aware

Would be to force myself awake

So, as I’ve learned with dreams

I must observe peripherally…

[A simple structure’s all that’s needed

To wander through my mind unheeded

Here the proof’s revealed already

One and Two are primed and ready]

Unfinished thoughts:

Freshly tapped and yet-unspoiled

Creativity and familiarity duel

They reconcile, making run on sentences

I prefer to leave un-spooled

Discordant melodies:

Gentle, jarring rock-a-bye

Defiance and release

Filling all the in-between

Habit forced to think

[Further in it gets confusing

Following the theme I’m using

I must keep my focus lacking

Three and Four are quite contrasting]

Righteous anger:

The briefest semblance of control

Vindicated by the chaotic whims

Of what I try not to think about

And just now almost did

Cuddly cats:

This one’s called a “mulligan”

I’m a sucker for the snugs

Of a fuzzy little floofer

Who purrs when given hugs

[I should’ve known this would be draining

I can I feel my will is waning

Privy to the plan I plotted

Five and Six I barely spotted]

The day after:

(The good kind, not the bad)

Where I breathe instead of heave

And wonder how it could’ve ever gone wrong

And how could it ever go wrong again

That time I did the right thing:

I can still remember the view

From when I stood at my tallest

A trial of Self Actualization

God, what a risk that was!

[Out of breath, I’m worn and winded

But I find myself committed

Still, I’ve lingered here too long

Eight and Nine are catching on]

A bad poem:

Who can really say what’s good and bad

Besides those who know better

Those who do find treasure

Those who don’t find it too

A good poem:

Who can really say what’s good and bad

Besides those who know better

Those who do find treasure

Those who don’t find it too

[A final push to finish strongly

Though the verses may seem wrongy

Effort here has given warning

Nine and Ten escort the morning]

My friends telling me it will be okay:

I do not believe them

But I give credit where credit’s due

They are good friends

And there is comfort in that

Comfort:

Is this cheating? A sort-of Ouroboros?

Taking comfort in the search of comfort

Tells me more than I know how to say

And there is comfort in that

listsurreal poetry
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