Pacesetter Power Play

Listen to Pacesetter Power Play by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Clubbed To Death by Rob Dougan

Stay the pace
Keep the faith
Lead with grace
And seize the day
For this is the ideal terrain
To play
To beat the rush
And lean on trust
To keep you on your feet
As much ado renews the need defeat to slay

Life can get away
Bereft of better days to dream
And it’s obscene how keen we seem to be seen swayed
Needles in our spleens
Pierce fearsome screams
Of needless pain
When we need never be defeated
In this way
Thirsting for our hurts to be deferred
We yearn release
Thereby we cease to be alert
To turns of fate
Patiently awaiting
A vacation from the sting
And here’s the thing
Syringes pinch
It’s just their way
Giving inches inches us towards the extra mile
While we kick back with a martini and a smile
Life can be real needy
When the lamp reveals no genie
And it’s no mean feat to quit
When test driving a Lamborghini
Maybe we’ve seen more than we had bargained for
Left precious little margin for a pardon
As capillaries have hardened
While our hearts
Packed tight in glass
Appear fit only for the lowly shelves of bargain stores
Less we dare to tread the path towards less charted course

Stay the pace
Keep the faith
Lead with grace
And seize the day
For this is the ideal terrain
To play
To beat the rush
And lean on trust
To keep you on your feet
As much ado renews the need defeat to slay

Stay the pace
Keep the faith
Lead with grace
And seize the day
For this is the ideal terrain
To fame
Takes some faith
To bleed with haste
When others need to feed
Yet there is nothing to concede
When seeding veins
To beat the rush
And gush with pride
To trust in love so dignified
Forever need not ever be seen slain

 

To no end
Relentless in its plea to wean the senses
On the feelings unpretentiously displayed
Essentially conveyed by way of kiss
Our lips are wishes yet to make
When we see fit to lift the veil
Life can get away
Bereft of better days to dream
But is serene when keen to be seen keeping pace
Showing all the mettle of a bed of brazen nettles
As the vessel
Sails great seas to seize the day
Hustling the limits
As we muscle in on cynics
To diminish the specifics they betray
Trailing petals
Pedal grazing metal
Asphalt burning
Swerving blackout
As dust settles in our wake

Stay the pace
Keep the faith
Lead with grace
And seize the day
For this is the ideal terrain
To play
To beat the rush
And lean on trust
To keep you on your feet
As much ado renews the need defeat to slay

Stay the pace
Keep the faith
Lead with grace
And seize the day
For this is the ideal terrain
To fame
Takes some faith
To bleed with haste
When others need to feed
Yet there is nothing to concede
When seeding veins
To beat the rush
And gush with pride
To trust in love so dignified
Forever need not ever be seen slain

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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3 Comments

  1. What a powerful piece. Gives me the same thrills I get when listening to many Muse tracks. Grand and operatic opening. I love the change of pace with the piano keyboard accompaniment and again back to the dramatic music. (Sorry I am a little low on vocab for musical aspects.) The more I listen the more I love its energy and wonderful interplay between music and words.

    1. Just realised I hardly commented on the words. I love the refrain’s incessant call to persevere:
      “Stay the pace
      Keep the faith
      Lead with grace
      And seize the day
      For this is the ideal terrain …”

      But it is more than stoicism it is about stamina, faith, grace, actively engaging in each day. A positive, determined stance that challenges the idea that the ‘terrain’ (inward and outward circumstances) are not barriers to to our progress and flourishing but the ideal soil for it. This it the time to play, to succeed (‘fame’), to practise trust and faith and love. This is the time to be dignified in our actions in the way that we rise above the circumstances.

      A poem of hope, but also a call to press through.

      As always, I feel my words barely scratch the surface of the depth of the poem.

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