“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, December 31, 2017
All ways equals Why
Because we discuss our collective fate along with current weather conditions,
because we attribute the excessive bloom of flowers to wild fires and trained bombs,
because we consider patterns relevant to us, Alone gathering anthropo-scenic views called 'experience'
because we started it all and made it bigger than we imagined we could
not manage to consume but tried with busyness, settling more acreage of earth piling up with paranoia than non-
biodegradable trash and we will ask about plastics as in permanence as if this was a Thing-
How did we get so scared of Being wrong, or Right or Just being?
Because we were starving but could not manage to eat another morsel of information,
GMO, TMI lined with BPA and other sterilizers, for safety.
We felt tired, too precautious and nauseous but forced to moved on.
Because none of us saved our energy for ourself,
because the reasons were not lining up, or justifiable by reason,
because these many motivations made centripetal mirages of us
we had nothing left
but the thinnest hope
to collapse into a wave function and recognize our own ripples.
Image By Henry Peach Robinson (British, 1830 - 1901) (1830 - 1901) – photographer (British) Details of artist on Google Art Project [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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