Wednesday, August 19, 2020

Expectations?




Expectations.
We’ve all got them.
A desire for the world
to work out the way we’d like.
For events and people to be
what we want them to be.

High Expectations.
Never often met, rarely
accomplished and even more so,
rarely satisfying.
The wish, the desire, too often
larger than reality can provide.

Lowered Expectations.
Is just a disappointing phrase.
I don’t even like to mutter it under
my breath as I curse my high expectations
of moderate to reasonable desires
and wants.

No Expectations.
Is to be dead.   
Seriously, if you have no expectations,
you died and there’s nothing left
to want or desire or need even in the
most minimal sense.

General Expectations.
Just a sense that it’ll work out.
They’ll do their job.
It’ll get done.
It’s possible.
Maybe.
Shrug.

Regular Expectations.
Seems like stepping out onto
a tightrope over an active volcano,
while wild islanders chant about their
expectations that if you fall into the volcano
on the right side then the harvest will be robust,
but if you slip and fall from the left, the island is
doomed.

Poetic Expectations.
Even more foolish than regular or high
expectations.  Usually far too much to ask.
Like a kiss from your crush or being
told you're admired for who you are.
Expectantly disappointed.
Again.


-"Surely he will come?". Painting by Christen Dalsgaard. From the Hirschsprung Collection, Denmark

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