A Though at a Time
People have a tendency
to want to, want to fix situations
grand and small.
But while the small
comes easy most times
and hurts little when
it doesn’t
the grand
works our rarely
and ambiguously
but always
explodes fabulously
and sometimes beautifully
in the face of the actor
acting as a pawn with agency
in the grand play of
which he is the creator
and actor in a small part
of the gears and ticking cogs
of some wild blue machine
in a big black room
with a grand fire
grand sun in the center
a fire that burns in fusion
or fission
of mystery
of secret
of a hand closed to us
for our eyes cannot find
what they are not meant to see
but it is human to try
to want to want
to want to believe
the need to be
because we think
tick tock pushes on
to action, to scramble, to fight
to gamble and whine and drink
and infect and cure
and soothe but kill
before its over
because after that
you cannot know what is.
What is when you are not.
Life is a lazy river boat ride
where you kind of see where you
are heading, can look around
and watch the bird fly
and the water flow
and the one floating beside you, with you or
behind you
and a waterfall
and a bright blue sky
behind it.
And one after another we plunge.
I only ask that not so fast
We should relish in the luxury
of time that we at least perceive
at least feel and run our
fingers over.
We have fingers here
but do we have fingers there?
Should we not prize our
fingers and by extension
ourselves? Proud to
own and walk amongst
through some sense of agency
and self respect, ambition?
By extension to the maximum
amount allowed by history,
its reality,
and reality
a belief
that each human
has no right
but deserves from sheer
common pity
to be allotted at least
fundamental dignity.
I want to live in a race
of humanity that finds
anything but this taboo.
Finds it unnecessary.
And not by economic necessity
but through choice. That,
if humanity could accomplish,
could cement in the gap
left from the great schism in the fabric of belief
and assuage the guilt for killing
something we couldn’t see.
Perhaps it was a tear from
abuse.
A reset button.
To work thing out from scratch.
The 20th Century has restructured
human existence so extraordinarily.
VK
A Though at a Time
People have a tendency
to want to, want to fix situations
grand and small.
But while the small
comes easy most times
and hurts little when
it doesn’t
the grand
works our rarely
and ambiguously
but always
explodes fabulously
and sometimes beautifully
in the face of the actor
acting as a pawn with agency
in the grand play of
which he is the creator
and actor in a small part
of the gears and ticking cogs
of some wild blue machine
in a big black room
with a grand fire
grand sun in the center
a fire that burns in fusion
or fission
of mystery
of secret
of a hand closed to us
for our eyes cannot find
what they are not meant to see
but it is human to try
to want to want
to want to believe
the need to be
because we think
tick tock pushes on
to action, to scramble, to fight
to gamble and whine and drink
and infect and cure
and soothe but kill
before its over
because after that
you cannot know what is.
What is when you are not.
Life is a lazy river boat ride
where you kind of see where you
are heading, can look around
and watch the bird fly
and the water flow
and the one floating beside you, with you or
behind you
and a waterfall
and a bright blue sky
behind it.
And one after another we plunge.
I only ask that not so fast
We should relish in the luxury
of time that we at least perceive
at least feel and run our
fingers over.
We have fingers here
but do we have fingers there?
Should we not prize our
fingers and by extension
ourselves? Proud to
own and walk amongst
through some sense of agency
and self respect, ambition?
By extension to the maximum
amount allowed by history,
its reality,
and reality
a belief
that each human
has no right
but deserves from sheer
common pity
to be allotted at least
fundamental dignity.
I want to live in a race
of humanity that finds
anything but this taboo.
Finds it unnecessary.
And not by economic necessity
but through choice. That,
if humanity could accomplish,
could cement in the gap
left from the great schism in the fabric of belief
and assuage the guilt for killing
something we couldn’t see.
Perhaps it was a tear from
abuse.
A reset button.
To work thing out from scratch.
The 20th Century has restructured
human existence so extraordinarily.
VK
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