Saturday, February 12, 2011

POEM - The Unbeknown


Who knows

are there jungle birds not yet documented?

are there mountains no boots have stepped upon?

are there caves and oceans left unexplored?

are there bulls that never rage?

are there shackled limbs yet to be liberated?

are there wars that achieve their stated aim?

are there hearts that will never break?

are there things still unseen by human eyes
thought by human minds
or felt by human hearts?

higher states of consciousness

or are such things
just taunts
the cultivation of a hope
to jolly ourselves along with

are we simply lost
in the exploration
of our own mystery

whilst our persistent irritable bowels
punctuate with farts
a string of poorly drawn metaphors
that fist fight with death

we remain
to the point
that our pain weeps for itself

we capture our emptiness
hold it high
and vaingloriously cheer
at a dark green beer bottle

it's such a languid hold
we have on life

as if we already know
we're done for

what our real legacy
will be

most of us
will live

below our potential.

Written 12/2/2011 by

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