This electric, magnetized,
body/mind equation of being,
is like a pilotless sailing ship,
that often runs upon the rocks,
to be beached
like any shipwreck
If the spirit of a lost love
should enter that broken vessel,
she will see two glasses,
set upon a tilting table,
while a wine bottle rolls
back and forth on a jumbled deck.
Though rough seas
and razor-teethed shores
have buffeted all else,
both bottle and glasses remain intact.
Consider them symbolic,
of a love Lorn alcoholic.
Stay awhile,
I will write you a love letter,
in a puddle of spilled wine
with my finger.
Yes, it will not last,
but nothing does my love.
They say that, “computers don’t make mistakes”; it boggles the mind how the same intellect that creates the computers, makes mistakes. How can imperfect minds, create a, perfect machine? They can’t, the human ego is the greatest deceiver; it feeds the human minds cravings with fake food. Driverless vehicles kill, pilotless planes crash more often. Computers, satellites, HDTV’s phones connected to satellites, fail. When will the human species admit we’re not God?
Even nature’s not
Perfect, her children are born
With limitations.
Rings in the trees are
Off-centered, imperfect; joints
Gnarled…arthritic.
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