While anticipating tomorrow,
I watched videos from a distant yesterday,
And wondered why life has strayed.
I’m on a roller coaster lying still.
It is never what we imagine.
Moments of anguish interspersed,
By moments of real joy.
Sometimes fate can be delightfully wonderful,
And yet madly painfully, unpredictable.
She said, “Don’t forget to eat your rainbow.
Eat all of your colors.”
I laughed hysterically at the absurdity of art.
Never trust a stoned poet,
As they’re climbing the ceiling fan,
Like a penguin on the roof,
Existing in only awe, powerful awe.
Whenever I’m in your house,
The mask comes off.
My guard is dropped,
As I stare at your artificial sunlight,
You’re brainwashing me with your smile.
You can’t have two trips at once.
I borrowed from one trip,
In order to take another.
That’s when she asked me, “Does God have a mother?”
I cracked, “Of course, if he’s Jewish.”
But who can limit God to one religion,
If we’re all originals,
Shaped in a potter’s wheel with God’s hands.
Is it not the difference then,
If you believe God is only in one,
And I believe God is within all?
And therefore all must be one?
We think we are individual bricks,
But we actually are the wall,
Holding one another up,
Trying so hard not to fall.
This illusion feels like a spiritual experience,
But much like life, there are waves.
Thoughts may not be facts,
But they can be poetry,
As poetry can disconnect fully,
From reality and still be valid art.
Keep following your heart,
And realize your Internet connection,
Is but no real life connection.
Descriptions of myself,
Are often confined by contradictory labels,
Of origin, consequence, and self-fulfilling fables.
How you’re never from the place you are,
Passing through like a shooting star,
Reliving, repeating, revealing circles of memory.
If great artists steal, why aren’t they making more money?
Art is just another way of remembering.
Keep remembering me, you, and everyone.
Use the fine line between genius and insanity to write on,
And you’ll manage to stay sane among humanity,
Understanding more by intuition than intellect,
When your intellect can become incredibly foolish,
Believing you’re facing death as you go through rebirth.
Stop running from your fate and approach the airport gate.
Penguin airlines is preparing to blast off,
Even if only for a moment in my mind,
It’s better for some time for laughing is better than crying.
In your presence, the words seem to wander,
Through the deserts of my mouth,
And I fear they will exit garbled, falling south.
You won’t know if you can really move,
Unless you think you can,
But when you think you can, you move.
This poem was published as a part of Look Ma! No Hands! If you dig it, please support the author, and grab a copy!