To be alive

A thousand eager faces hold the stage

in rapt attention. Slowly every heart

unfurls within this sacred arc. We start

by watching from afar, thinking our sage

or cynical remove can keep the rage

of fractured love at bay. But in the art

of light and gesture, we are pulled apart

by words astounding from the poet’s page.

The veil of separation has been torn

with rude abandon, making every breast

complicit in the tragedy before

us. For we share their breath, yet do not warn

them of their fate. Seeing our lives expressed

we ache to be alive, and cry for more.

Runaway

If a lineset gains so much momentum
that the operator cannot stop it,
that heavy load becomes a runaway.

Your instinct will be to grab the rope. Don’t.
If you are lucky, you will only burn
your hands as the rope races between them.

Much more likely, though, you will be carried
upwards by the rope – to be smashed into
the loading bridge, mangled by falling weights.

Should you survive this awful collision,
you will likely lose your grip on the rope
and scream back to the deck. This hurts like hell.

Learn this discipline, however unnatural:
When a line gets out of control, let go!
Don’t be a hero. Warn others. And run.