"Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn."
We have known the music of emptiness,
and truth be told,
at times, we have sought it.
Times when we seek,
not to make sense of it all,
but to accept the senselessness
and vanity that comprises much
of life.
This is not sadness,
it is a hollowness:
this us not despair,
it is more like
resignation —
But it is also
a type of detoxification,
an emptying out
to allow for the possibility
of refilling.
The evil people do
Is manywheres at play;
It hides in power suits,
And seeks to rule the day,
But time’s a referee
And knows not foe or friend:
So power has its day,
But that day has
Its end
Who is it that we were,
And what was all that work?
Our one-day someday dreams
Are now met with a smirk
These cabinets we used
Are laughed at through the view
That vanities are fine
As long as they
Are new
A life led by blind desire,
Lurching toward the funeral pyre
Happenstance spun into meaning,
Private times spent posing, preening
Strings of words on worthless air,
Tableaus struck with no one there
Emptiness and vanity,
Sheltered by insanity
Carved from cells once formed by bliss:
So familiar
All of this
(“So Familiar” – 10-23-2014)
beauty, solace, wealth, and fame –
these fight out a lethal game;
greed and envy sanction hate,
rich to poor, or wan to great.
glamour, passion, toil, and lust:
idols turned to ash and dust —
beauty, solace, wealth, and fame:
gain the wind, but lose
your name
Picture credit : Yung Chao Chen
Within the vineyard of her honeyed youth
The red wine flows through long and draping vines;
From sharpest grape it runs to sweetest tooth,
Down where the soil and the sun combines
To bring about a type of miracle.
A marvel that she’s not thought on for years:
A thing that’s not the least satirical,
A sober thing of ancient engineers.
For light and flippant are her thoughts these days,
Of vanity and life amid the stars;
The latest trend, the hottest fashion craze,
And all the best of nightclubs and of bars —
She stops and blinks, a teardrop to conceal;
Within her father’s vineyard, life was real
.
Picture / Photo Credit : © Mikhalevich | Dreamstime.com – Vineyards. Watercolor. Photo
Not knowing / anything, really
The only symptoms that we see Are those expressly chosen for our eyes The diagnosis we arrive at Has been shaded and shaped By clues deliberately dropped there for us And even more by what hasn't been shown So we recommend treatment Not knowing Anything, really Not the nature of the disease Nor its real symptoms We have no hope of finding a cure And we genuinely, fervently believe That we are the enlightened ones
