Navel Contemplation
I could write to you about what it feels like to be
unhinged, untethered, to float on a breeze of malintent
But what would it matter to you?
Thinking random thoughts anchorless,
adrift in a typhoon of emotional baggage
for which you have lost the claim tag.
In this flash bulb, pop snap, presto-chango world
where the only sane thing to do, or be, is to be insane,
I could talk to you of that……
Of the parenting child, wiping up the vomit
of a blighted gene pool.
Of the wound-up, pent-up,
morally straightjacketed, youth who has no example
of the rightness of creation or the necessity of destruction.
All this masticating, ruminating, procrastinating
does not stop the clock,
the pendulum continues its swing….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sometimes within an all too ego driven self,
I assume you don’t know this!
The masses of opiated, upward looking
stiffs, passing through, and over their
pap driven lives don’t know this?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, but after realizing I realize nothing
I conclude… you have been there haven’t you?
Perhaps, your realizations did not arrive
from the same lessons as mine.
But after searching through an exorcism of soul
I would think You know,
in your heart of hearts you know.
In one form, or another, at one time, or another,
you have all been there blessed with insanity,
in a world which leaves few other outlets
between life and death.
For the sensitive’s in life are surrounded
with knifes, and guns, and drugs..lures
to cut the tethers, burst our bubbles
and rock our boats.
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