Monday, February 27, 2012

Pristine and despair

On a day like this
Days like that make sense
In a moment of pristine
And a moment of despair
It’s true, dear, and so true
Those days now seem
Not fair

A reality I seldom embrace for I’ve
Just learned
The right side of my brain is
Twisted and torn
Never playing games, never
Combining strengths
While the rest of the world struggles
To find reasoning
In make-believe separation, could it be that
It’s our brain’s fault?

Yes and I

The ocean won’t leave the shore but
Shores will no longer shore be when
Ocean swiftly covers it all or will it
That fire will blanket with its
Reputable and wide hands the four corners of this
World of parsimony or
Will it be that men
Finally will
Covet everything there is, the skies, and milky ways
Oceans of unsinkable stars and black holes hanging sideways
Until all that could belong to a heavenly notion is nothing
Another one of men’s acquisitions

For the fighter in me wants to
Conquer the fighter in you and
Fighting eye for an eye is old
Fighting tooth for a gallon of milk, well
That’s more like it. ~