thinking, theorizing, philosiphizing, etc...

Self and Whole

I watched as invisible rain
Leapt from the grey sky
And each tiny, fragile globe
Exploded on a glass sea.

I saw each drop as it hit—
Water plunging boldly into water.
Hopefully, I traced their paths
To shore, but not one ripple
Reached my feet.

Instead I saw myself
Pulsing subtly,
Shaken by the motion:
The unanimous union
Of self and whole.


The Wounded Bird

We rest stiff in stuffy studies
And complain of minor aches
While symphonies saturate the halls
And billow like smoke from the doors
Of our burning houses.

Denial.
Reclusion.
Indifference.

Our mansions at the center,
The world spins in dizzy circles
Flung by a bullet in springtime,
And reeling from the blow,
It staggers to our doorsteps.

Dismissed.
Refused.
Ignored.

It dies at the threshold
With desperate pleas for notice
Unheard over the deafening sound
Of our endless search for cheer.
We drown the globe in comfort.


A White Thought

A white thought
Defies me to define,
Drifting in
And wandering out
In stubborn ambiguity.

It is all feelings
Yet none.
A sunken chest,
A lifted spirit;
Crippling fear,
Overwhelming joy.

A white thought
Defies me to define.
Poking,
Teasing,
Prodding,
Then floating off again.


An Epitaph

When my pen ran dry,
And crowded shopping malls and dim beer halls
Decayed back into forests they replaced;
When towering city skylines were erased
And everything I knew faltered and fell,
Still, I shut my eyes.

When my pen ran dry,
And every thought became a memory
Of loss and failure, vivid and haunting;
Enemies yielded to ceaseless taunting
And extinguished life with cold brevity,
Still, I shut my eyes.

When my pen ran dry,
And the time came when I should cease to be,
Burdened and weary of a world fleeting;
When I left this world, broken and bleeding
And suffering and sorrow I ceased to see,
Still, I shut my eyes.