Running Poetry XXIII

Nowadays, my art has been reduced to a mechanical habit. However, the rising popularity of the spoken word and my chance meeting with a former tri-teammate has made me nostalgic tonight. The craving to create has resurfaced. Free time is still rarity though, which begets the realization that eventually kills my creative mood. Maybe, someday.

Vacation’s over
Recovered lost two kilos
Gained another one

Awkward ride last night
Taxi driver hit a dog
Guilt made fare cheaper

Donuts and running
The perfect combination
Don’t forget the tea

Oh so sleepy legs
Cumulative weariness
Hundred days to go

I could not break it
This prey mindset ain’t helping
Awfully slow now

Need to pump iron
Need to stop doing the dew
Need to hit the sack

Tongue-tied and stupid
Word, phrases, uh, sentences
I should stop staring

The breathless time warp
The scent of freshly baked bread
And the rising heat

Only ten percent
Of this pace was mine so draw
Your own conclusion

Ran ev’ry twelfth hour
Atop mountains of laundry
Rising ev’rywhere

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