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

systematically

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

thoughts

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

like

indifference

hate

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

funny

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

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