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Saturday, February 25, 2012

us for Breakfast

us for Breakfast

it was a day like any other day
or so it seemed
heart was beating
with no direct input from me
Thank God
for i would most certainly screw it up
or forget to keep my mind to task
if i had to be responsible

The chest was still grabbing that air
except when i intervened
to draw on my cigarette

i went outside
like i do every morning
to offer my obeisance, prayer and gratitude
for just being here

i looked about me
the trees were still . . . . trees
standing rooted in the earth about me
still swaying to a light wind
while reaching for the heavens

was i emulating them,
or they mocking me ?

the sky was a very light blue
the Sun was what the Sun was
slightly warm, slightly yellow
all light
but . . .
it appeared to be in a different place
than yesterday at this time

i pondered this
and minds like mine
like that
early morning thoughts to play with

and then the variety of considerations came
and the game of possibilities began

just supposed the Sun is really moved
but 15 degrees to the north ?
or was it Mother who has shifted ?
what would happen ?

would the Earth open up
and swallow us for breakfast
from Kosovo to Texas
from England to Japan
man . . .
that’s funny
the powerlessness of man

i wondered then
where does all these thoughts go ?
are they being stored someplace ?
a place where i would meet them again
Lorde knows there are many i would like to forget
have them wiped from my memory
for i am not anxious to know
that they too are eternally mine

these thoughts . . .
will they ever complete themselves
be reconciled
unto their own path
or are they destined to wander
waiting in some suspect position
to ambush me again
mug me again
to encounter and struggle
like Jacob ?

break my Thigh Divine Angel
and then redeem me
rename me
let me become a nation

they were meant to be lost
not for me to re-find
that junk
and disdain
and pain
and nonsense
that once made sense
in my sickened mind
you know what i mean
yes, the mean stuff
towards self
and others

i think i forgave my self
but i do still faintly remember
some incidences
and the defenses
of my less than valiant character

how the thought of being perished
brings upon us
these not so cherished moments
yet we hold on to them
in memory of our almost dead pasts
that lasts
and lasts
and lasts
always casting shadows
into our presence
a gift
a contribution of sorts
to our Karma i guess

a test perhaps ?

sometimes i think this but a school
you know .. .  life
and fools like me never get it
or do we ?
and just do not confront
those items
we hide in the back of our closets
along with that child we once knew

Viktor Frankl spoke
of our existentialism
and the schisms betwixt self
and reality
me . . .
i got plenty of them
i thought it was my job to create them
isn’t that what dreaming is for
to escape who we are
to go in our proverbial kitchens
and bake cakes
with pretty colorful icings
so that we can lick the bowls
of our bowels of reason clean
and pretend we are desert
for the world about us
pretend the world likes us

which ushers forth another concern
before i burn
so they tell me
and that is trust
why is it always the unseen ?

that being the situation
we all can believe in whatever we choose
couldn’t we

but in the end
i do not think it would stop
the Earth from swallowing
us for Breakfast
do you ?

after all . . .
do not we eat our young too?

© 25 February 2012

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