Untrammelled Poem by RIC BASTASA

i try to evade the shore
i want to fly away and never stop flying
but i end up
upon a branch, gazing on the valleys
and the plains and the houses grouping like frogs
the wind is singing
i end up listening

i try to evade the things that i like doing
those that spoil my bread and butter days
the way i try to hone my claws
and sharpen my beak
but i always end up doing what i do not like doing

how can i end this obsession-compulsion thing?
how often have i asked that question and i always end up with a wrong answer

enough of these, bickering inside me, this internal debate
that has leashed me

unleash the binds, i eat that stone, choke myself
and then i fly

wingless,
a wind in the air,
crossing the spheres
unto that untrammeled horizon