The Mind And Heart In Conflict

The steady, steady, steady, steady beat

is interrupted by a different beat,

a looser rhapsody whose rhythmic beat

is filled with interruptions, extra beats

and silences, a wild abandonment

of order, structure, pace. Cacophony

is what I hear. A jumbled, restless beat

that can’t be right. That needs to go away.

I want the beat to steady. It should be

predictable: ta dum, ta bum, ta dum;

a boring beat to fit a boring man.

This wild exuberance is not for me.

Dum . . . Dum . . . Dum . . . Stability

is what is wanted, needed. Dum. Dum. Dum.

I can’t predict the wild, orgiastic excesses

I feel. I need the metronome I’m used to.

Extra beats are fine for someone else.

I’m bothered when expected beats are missed

and wait impatiently for their return.

It isn’t right. It isn’t right. But still

I hope the beat, the music never stops.

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